Over and Over
by Lotus Butterfly
Summary: Pack mentality kept bringing them together, even after everything between them was over. Too bad they can't stand each other.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Lookit me, uploading something new instead of updating a story...sorry about not updating any of my open stories lately you guys. Lack of updates can be blamed on the fact that, as you all should know, F.3.A.R. was released recently and I've been replaying the first two F.E.A.R. games, so my mind is kind of in that world. Maybe I'll write something for that in the near future...we'll see.

In the meantime, I have this. I'm trying to get back into my DMC groove. I haven't really written anything solidly DxN in a while. I have two possible stories, both with the same theme that you'll see down below, but I'm not sure if I should go with this theme. I figure, I'll let you guys read what I have here and have you decide if it's worth continuing or if I should take it down and try something else. If you guys DO want me to continue it, it'll be edited, extended, and renamed to have a proper title before I add to it. Or it could live as it's own disjoined oneshot.

So reviews are even more appreciated here you guys!

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

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><p>It was over.<p>

Nero knew that. It was a plain and simple fact. A fact that had been clear for months now…almost a full year. And yet there he stood once again, staring up at that garish neon sign with its flickering 'D' feeling a sickening mixture of dread, false hope, and resignation. Once again he was standing on the stoop of Devil May Cry, and once again he was questioning his own sanity at being there. Yes, he'd lived here for a time. He didn't anymore. Not really. He didn't want to be back living here either. Or maybe he did….

No. Definitely not.

_If it's so obviously over, then why do I keep coming here?_ Nero thought, gritting his teeth in frustration; frustration that was directed mostly at himself; because though Dante had his faults, the half-devil who owned this business had nothing to do with why Nero kept torturing himself by returning.

The young man raked his gloved right hand through his hair, tousling the white strands further. He found himself looking around a bit anxiously; as if afraid someone would see him so hesitant. Or worse, just notice that he was here _yet again. _As usual, there was really no one on the deserted side street. In the distance he could clearly hear people moving about, talking, cars driving past, smell the thick smog of pollution in the city air, nothing at all like the sweet salt in the ocean air of Fortuna. How Nero wished he hadn't left. He'd managed to stay there the first time he left Capulet city, and Devil May Cry, for a whole four months before he found himself inevitably drawn back. He always ended up leaving after a week or so, but the gaps in between his returns home were growing shorter and the time he stayed here inevitably drawing out longer.

Nero always told himself it was just because after being trained to fight and having demon blood in him, the excitement from hunting devils called to him. Fortuna, for all its faults, was a peaceful place now. Unfortunately, that also meant it was mind-numbingly boring. The demons around there were few and far between. What was left of the Order's guards could easily handle them.

That had been the appeal of coming to find Dante in the first place. Nero remembered just needing a change, needing excitement back in his life. The thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline that pumped through his veins, letting go of his control and throwing his all into a no-holds barred fight…it was a strange bliss. He knew Kyrie hadn't fully understood, but she knew he needed to leave, and she'd let him. That first time Nero had gone to find some kind of adventure, and consequently ended up staying with Dante, the songstress had smiled at him from the doorstep, waving and saying she'd wait for him to return. She'd had such faith in him. So much patience for the rebellion that was in his very blood.

And though he never told her all of what had transpired between him and the infamous Son of Sparda during that following year, Kyrie had sensed the change in him the instant she'd opened the door upon his return to Fortuna. Nero didn't have to say anything for her to somehow just know. He could see the dawning realization in her eyes after the first couple of days. She saw how distant he'd been, how restless. How hurt…

She figured out for herself that whatever potential for a blossoming relationship between them was gone.

Because Nero had fallen in love with someone else.

Perhaps 'love' wasn't the right word, Nero amended his thoughts. He wasn't sure he'd ever been _in love_ with Dante. In lust maybe. While at one time the young devil hunter might have thought the two of them had a relationship, in the end all it came down to was sex.

Nero heaved a tired sigh and turned his back to the double doors he'd yet to approach any closer than a step. Instead of entering, he slid his duffle bag off his shoulder and let it fall to the street with a heavy thump before seating himself on the bottom step of the stoop leading up to those looming doors. He sighed again as he rested his elbow on his knee, chin laying in the palm of his human hand while the still gloved devil bringer tapped out a listless rhythm on his thigh.

If he could think of anywhere else to go, Nero would gladly go there. Any other place but back here. He knew how it would play out. He would walk in; Dante would probably be napping behind his desk. Either the older man would wake up or not, but either way, he would just acknowledge Nero's return presence as something inevitable. They would pretty much ignore each other for a few days, and then eventually fall back into a satisfying rhythm of hunting demons. And they did make a great team, Nero admitted that. When they were on a mission, their history together was a benefit. They could practically read each other's minds and move accordingly. They were swift and efficient together, and it worked for them.

Sadly, that same connection they had on the battlefield translated into the more domestic setting as well. Once the battles were over and they returned to this shop, their history completely flipped around and became the worst possible thing they shared.

It must have been some form of a pack mentality that made him come back here, Nero decided. Because even though his demon side drove him to find some way to alleviate the burning desire to hunt, it didn't want to do it alone. He would end up coming back here to Dante, the host of the only other devil in the world he trusted.

The arrangement would work fine if it weren't for one other pressing fact.

Dante and Nero couldn't stand each other.

First few days were always the best. They got along by ignoring each other. Once they started hunting together, though, they would be forced to speak or interact closely in some way and for some reason that just made them fight. Their demon sides may still be at peace with each other, but their human halves couldn't dislike the other more.

Nero looked up at the gray sky as it darkened further and the ominous rumble of thunder warned of incoming rain. He remembered that when it rained here, streets tended to flood. Particularly Slum Avenue. Either he sat here and brooded and got wet, or he gathered his things and went inside. Where the inevitable would repeat itself like it always had. And always would.

Before he could make a decision one way or the other, Nero internally groaned as he heard one of the heavy doors behind him open. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know who it was peeking out at him. Just like he didn't have to wait long for who it was to speak.

"You going to come in, or just sit out there and pout?" Dante asked. Even his voice was always the same. That mild baritone carrying the underlying note of airy exasperation, like it was a chore to even bother speaking because whatever he said or asked was always rhetorical. Unless he was trying to get someone to leave him alone. Only then was he really direct.

Nero sat up straight and rolled his shoulders. The temptation was great to just get up and leave…but where was he going to go? Back to Fortuna? He was always called back to Capulet by some masochistic force inside of him, but in all honesty, he didn't want to be in Fortuna anymore. After things fell apart between him and Kyrie, she'd settled with someone else. She obviously wasn't as happy as she was with Nero, but she and her new husband seemed satisfied with each other. Nero always felt like he was an interloper on their little circle. The proverbial fifth wheel, or rather, third wheel in this case. Neither told him he wasn't welcome. They always kept his room unoccupied. But Nero knew they felt just as awkward as he did staying for long periods of time.

Fate was just determined to make him have to tolerate Dante.

"Well are you coming in or not, kid?"

Nero clenched his jaw as he grabbed the straps of his duffel and turned to walk up the three steps leading to the double doors. Though Dante stepped back to let him in, Nero purposefully chose to use the other door, keeping as much space between them as possible.

"So it's going to be like that, is it?" Dante asked, again in that same tone that implied he already knew the answer.

The younger man scowled and sent the half-devil a dark look. In that one second he could tell that in the few weeks he'd been gone, Dante hadn't changed a bit. His pale hair was still a mess, piercing blue eyes half-lidded and unsurprised to see Nero again. And damned if the young hunter didn't still find him attractive. Nero let himself seethe over that fact before he dismissed Dante completely and went straight for the stairs, jogging up them to the spare room. Just like with Kyrie and her husband, Dante kept the room open for him. Because he knew Nero would always be back.

_Unlike with them though_, Nero thought as he tossed his bag on the floor and flopped onto the narrow bed, staring up at the dark ceiling as the first drops of rain began to patter on the roof, _I feel like I'm supposed to be here._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys. I didn't get many reviews so far for this, but those of you who DID review, made me so ridiculously happy I almost cried. Seriously! You all had such nice things to say and were more interested in conveying the message that you missed me and were so happy I was back xD I love you guys too. So so much. I've been re-reading your reviews over and over. Thank you SO MUCH for writing them!

I know I said I'd probably rename this, but I don't have time for that right now. We'll just call this the working title and move on, shall we? Also, forgive if there are spelling mistakes here. I finished this up in a hurry because I have to run to work in like...five minutes? Agh! Lol, jk, I won't be late. Hope you guys enjoy this second chapter. It's more the flipside of the intro, which is why it starts the same way.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** Blood of Dusk, Valenwind and SirenaLorely. Yous guys is awesome. Here, hug my fatty kitty because I gotta run, lol!

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><p>It was over.<p>

The silence inside the shop was broken only by the rough rain pounding against the roof like a discordant chime. Everything was dark save for the few flashes of lightning from outside that illuminated the inside from the large windows by the doors. Dante wasn't sure when the power went out, nor did he particularly care. Slumped over his desk, the famed devil hunter was too busy staring into the darkness, chin resting on the desktop, arms folded in front of him and if there'd been light to see anything beyond shadows of his furniture, they would've blocked it.

Nero was back. It was over between them and Nero was back again. He let his eyes close on the darkness and took in a slow breath. Not one to be drawn into drama, Dante fought to keep his distance. Soon enough they'd be at each other's throats, but for tonight, with the storm that seemed to symbolize his relationship with Nero now kept outside, he wanted to just pretend that everything was alright.

Dante wasn't entirely sure when and where things had gone so wrong between them. When Nero first showed up nearly two years ago, stubbornly refusing to say why he'd come, never in a thousand years would Dante have thought this was where they'd end up. That year spent with Nero had been really the only heaven he'd known. As someone who tended to not get close to anyone to save himself the heartache of losing them, his life was dangerous after all, Dante had become attached to the kid. They had a lot in common after all, and it was nice to just not have to come home alone.

Just like he wasn't sure when it went sour, he wasn't sure what started their odd relationship either. It just happened. They became business partners, and for a time he'd treated Nero just like he'd treat Trish or Lady. And yet…something, somewhere, changed. Almost within a day, they went from business partners, human-devil brothers in arms, to…well, to be blunt, to having sex. Never had Dante, or Nero for that matter, spoken a single word of commitment or alluded to having deeper feelings. Admittedly, Dante had formed those deeper feelings even though he didn't say anything. He'd tried to show it the only way he really knew how, and that was by having more sex with Nero.

At first, Nero didn't seem to mind that they were partners by day and bed buddies by night. They didn't acknowledge any ties that could have bound them because of their arrangement, and as such their relationship was open. Eventually though, Nero seemed to get the idea that just sex between them was demeaning and cheapened them both. At least, that was the only reason Dante could think of that sparked the first fight.

That infamous first fight. Dante couldn't really remember what started it, but he remembered some of the nastier things Nero said to him, and all the nasty things he said back. From that terrible day of arguing on, they couldn't get along and any 'deeper feelings' Dante may have formed, died brutally. Every day the tension grew and their fights became more physical than verbal.

Eventually, it had only been the sane, logical thing to separate. Nero packed his things and left. And Dante let him. That should've been that.

Except a few months later, Nero came back. His excuse was that there was no hunting to do around Fortuna and he needed something to release all of the energy he'd been generating by being stationary so long. Dante let him stay, not wanting to argue about it. When they hit it off on that first job back together, he'd thought the past would be behind them. But the fight came anyway. It always took a couple days, but before he knew it, Nero or Dante would say or do something to snap the other's temper and they'd end up where all this started.

Fighting and inevitably separated.

It was better for them both if they stayed that way, but something kept drawing them back together. Nero let it slip once before that all the blame was on his demon side. It was always what made him come back out here. Dante figured he could blame his own darker half for the same thing. Because whenever the kid came back, even though they both knew what would happen, it never said no. In fact, his devil side would push at him to say yes. He hated the thought; but he suspected it was because that other side of him was lonely. It missed the companionship it had with Nero's own devil blood.

It was damn frustrating to be subject to instinct that overruled higher reasoning.

-o-o-o-

Morning dawned gray and bleak. Though the storm had gradually calmed through the night, eventually breaking an hour or so before, the sky remained thickly clouded over. The streets outside were partially flooded like always. Some of the deeper cracks and potholes in the pavement formed muddy puddles that looked deceptively shallow. Dante always found it a bit ironic that rain only made it more obvious how dirty the city really was instead of cleaning it. Wasn't rain supposed to be some sort of whimsical cleansing or some crap like that?

Perhaps his usual carefree mood was dampened by the fact that he hadn't slept much last night; he hadn't even left his desk and gone to bed for that matter. He had been too preoccupied with dreading Nero's most recent return. Odd, Dante thought, he'd never dreaded anything until Nero. He guessed it could also be said that his 'usual' carefree attitude hadn't been 'usual' at all for nearly the past year. Dante found himself growing quieter and more reserved each day that passed.

A large part of him resented that, actually. He resented that Nero had somehow stolen away his ability to let the world roll off his shoulders. Dante was now actually _bothered_ when things went wrong; when things got complicated, like they always did.

Dante sat up from his desk and leaned back in his chair, rolling his stiff neck while fighting off a yawn. For some reason, whenever Nero was back to staying with him, he felt suddenly old; growing tired and weary. Off-handedly, Dante wondered how many more of these cycles he could take. Every fight and separation left him more and more exhausted and disheartened.

He was in the middle of weighing the pros and cons of getting up to get a drink – something to eat would probably benefit him more, but Dante didn't have much of an appetite; just another by-product of Nero's presence – when a door upstairs opened. He found himself listening quietly as the soft footfalls made the boards of the second floor creak gently, and then another door closed. Dante didn't even question where Nero was going, he knew the kid's habits well enough to know that the he had probably been awake for almost an hour and only now decided to get out of bed. Dante counted to ten in his head to time right down to the second when the shower would turn on.

Sighing, he leaned his chair back and propped his feet up. That self-proposed drink was sounding better and better; however, his liquor was on the other side of the room. It was directly in sight, yet seemed impossibly far away at that moment. Dante couldn't muster up the care or energy to get up and walk over there, no matter how badly he felt like drinking.

At least Nero hadn't ruined Dante's penchant for laziness. That could be seen as a small bonus. In all honestly, though, he blamed the lack of movement more on depression. Yet another thing that Nero left him with that he didn't want. Dante felt a spark of irritation flare up at that fact. If he kept up this line of thinking, they'd set a new record on how long it took before they started fighting, but he really didn't care.

When Nero trotted down the stairs a couple minutes later, hair damp and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that covered nearly all of his demonic arm save for the hand, Dante took one look and quickly averted his eyes. He didn't want to stare. Hell, he didn't even want Nero here anymore than the kid wanted to be here himself. But for all the frustration and depression, the heart-heavy dread he caused, Dante still wanted Nero.

All faults aside, they always had great sexual chemistry. Unfortunately, neither saw that as a good thing anymore.

Neither said good morning to the other. Dante didn't get up and Nero didn't stop his determined stride to the kitchen. That was how it always played out. They didn't speak, didn't even look at each other, until absolutely necessary. Namely, whenever a job was brought to their attention.

Even though he was long used to the routine by now, Dante still groaned as he laid his head back and closed his eyes after Nero left the room.

It was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey peoples. Sorry I didn't update right away, I spent Friday in the ER. There's been a really bad viral bug going around and I apparently caught it. I'm doing much better now, so don't worry. I guess it's just as well this chapter took me a bit longer to write. Being sick usually warps my imagination and I decided to give this story a wild twist to go with the character development. I hope you guys like it. And just for the record...I've been playing too much F.E.A.R. (but at least I'm good at those games...)

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom. The little demons I used for this chapter are a variation of a F.E.A.R.2 enemy, so they don't belong to me either. I used them because I hate them. I mean...REALLY hate them.

**Dedications:** All you people who are reading this. Much loves to you guys.

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><p>Time always seemed to stop here. Nero was never certain if it was his own perception or if Dante was aware of the phenomenon as well, but of course, he'd never ask. The young hunter had sat on Dante's couch for what felt like an eternity. It was probably only half a day…maybe a whole day, but it passed like weeks. Long, drawn out minutes ticked by as the silence between the two of them stretched on. Nero had nothing to say, but he almost wished Dante would open his fat mouth. The older man never used to shut up. But for the past several months, he was unnervingly quiet. Ever since Nero first left, or so he'd guess.<p>

The first time Dante spoke to him was probably two days after Nero first arrived back at Devil May Cry. It was a relief to hear something other than a ticking clock and the oppressive weight of silence. Nero looked over when Dante stood up from behind his desk and reached for Rebellion, the large sword resting complacently against the wall.

"I got a call before you came back," straight and to the point. Of course, it was just business. "Some odd disturbances in a vacant building near a residential district. People suspect demons, but I put off going to check it out." Dante didn't specify exactly his reason why, but Nero suspected he knew.

Dante had known Nero was coming back any day and put off the job so he could have a reason to avoid the awkward silences they always shared. Why it had taken the older hunter so long to bring it up was still a mystery, but frankly Nero didn't care. A job was a job and anything that got him out of this building and into some fresh air, anything that would allow him to put a bit more space between him and Dante, was welcome.

Nero gathered his hunting gear without saying anything. Once he'd shrugged into his coat and secured his weapons, he headed for the double doors leading outside. He knew Dante was coming up behind him, and without asking, Nero just knew they would be walking. No need to take the car and chance getting stuck in traffic driving to their destination. Once he was on the street, Nero crossed his arms and waited with feigned patience as Dante locked up the shop and started walking. Again without asking, Nero knew that he just had to follow Dante. It would save them the added trouble of speaking to share directions.

The walk wasn't long, only a few miles, and Nero found that he recognized most of the places they passed. Of course there was the usual line up of bars and clubs around Dante's neighborhood, all places Nero had been into with the other man. Not very fond memories anymore, so he didn't dwell on them. As they left the seedier side of the city, they emerged into the busy shopping district, lined with shops selling anything anyone could ever want; usually overpriced merchandise at that. Cars crawled down the busy streets and the pedestrian traffic was just as bad. People flooded the sidewalks; a couple holding hands, a child with his mother pointing into windows, all strangers and yet drawn to the same place for some purpose, whether they were aware of the purpose or not. Nero found himself oddly relating to all these people. Just as they were drawn to the shops, whether they wanted or needed anything or not, Nero was drawn back to Dante's side when it was the last place he wanted or needed to be.

Dante kept his eyes forward; trying to look forward to the job they had waiting for them at their destination. It was hard to be excited about something when you knew it would only end badly. He and Nero would no doubt start interacting closely after this mission. And inevitably they would be drawn into another argument. He didn't want to fight anymore. Not with Nero. There were too few people he could trust at his back and the last thing he wanted was to drive Nero to the point where the kid would be back to trying to rip his head off like when they first met. Sighing, he tucked his hands into his pockets and continued weaving through the crowds of people. The walk felt like it was taking forever, but even as he had that thought, he turned and they left the shopping district behind. Now they walked past rows of houses, a few apartment buildings scattered in between the middle class homes. It wasn't the nicest neighborhood, but admittedly it was better than where he lived.

He stopped and pointed up at one of the buildings as he looked back towards Nero. As expected, the younger man had stayed right behind him the whole way, silent as a grave. Even his expression gave nothing away, which was something Dante still found strange. Nero may have grown up some since they first met, but he was still by nature a very passionate person. To see him so reserved only made Dante feel worse about everything that had happened between them, the good and the bad. He probably did his own share of damage to Nero's usual temperament.

"This is it." Dante finally said, dropping his hand to his side.

Nero glanced at Dante before turning his gaze to the building. It didn't look run down, just vacant. There was one broken window up around the top floor. At about four stories tall, Nero guessed it used to be an apartment building. None of the windows or the front door was barricaded, and even the fence around the structure's dying lawn was sturdy and looked fairly new.

"Did they just abandon this place because of the disturbances?" Nero wondered. Though he hadn't been speaking directly to Dante, the other man answered anyway, as Nero knew he would.

"Most likely ran off because I didn't show up right away. Must mean things got worse, so maybe there's a decent party going on in there."

Nero found his lips curling upwards in spite of himself. "You and your damn parties."

Dante looked over at him and returned the small, involuntary smile with his own, though it was distinctly lacking any real humor. "You know it."

They were both still being careful; the less they interacted, the more they could get away with just ignoring each other. But it was impossible to keep up forever. That same force that pushed them together made them want to speak, to share that same old camaraderie.

To save them both, Dante pushed open the front gate and went up the cracked walkway to the front door. He could hear Nero's footsteps echoing behind him as he eased the front door open and stepped inside. At first glance, there wasn't much that seemed wrong. The main floor was dim, the overhead light broken, but there was enough light coming in from the windows to see the worn flooring. Right across from the foyer was a wall of mailboxes, each one numbered for all the apartments above and the two that were on either side of the main floor. One door that was probably the landlord's place was situated under the stairway. The only other apartment on this floor was on the immediate right of the mailboxes.

Nero couldn't help but hold his breath as they stepped into the building and had their first look around. Even though there were no obvious disturbances, his right arm was growing warm, indicating nearby demon activity. His heart started to pound, flooding him with adrenaline though there was no immediate target to fight. This was what always drew him back here. The rush. The anticipation. The hunt.

Dante headed for the door under the stairs so Nero went to check the other one. All he found inside was someone's world. Their belongings a bit strewn, empty spaces on a few shelves and a few empty drawers in the bedroom, as if the tenant had packed in a hurry and run. He was about to call this room a bust when he noticed something behind the apartment's door leading out into the foyer. He hadn't seen it coming in, but Nero narrowed his eyes on the dark spot on the wall by a light switch. Walking over, he pushed the door away from the wall and frowned.

Staining the white paint on the wall in red was a very distinct, very human looking handprint.

Nero leaned in and sniffed curiously at the mark, recoiling at the familiar smell of dried blood. Had the tenant cut themselves as they were packing? It was plausible, but something about the bloody handprint just made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Find anything, kid?"

Nero didn't even remark about the much used and much disliked nickname. He was too happy to have an excuse to leave the apartment. He ducked out into the foyer and saw Dante peering up the stairs, one foot already on the first step.

"Nothing really, just an empty apartment." Nero reported as he rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling oddly uneasy.

"Upstairs it is then." Dante replied as he began to ascend. Nero followed up after him. They had just made it to the landing of the second floor, staring down the hall lined with more apartments, a few with their doors wide open, when Nero drew his gun and spun around at the sound of a quiet hiss.

The demon that made the noise was barreling up the stairs after them. How they had missed it while searching the ground floor, Nero had no clue. It wasn't anything he'd ever seen before. The demon looked rather human with its pink toned flesh, its elongated limbs would've looked unnatural enough, but the strange proportions were highlighted by its spider-like movements. The creature was scuttling on all fours, sometimes moving up onto the wall before hopping onto the railing to slink along with surprising agility.

Nero's first instinct was to shoot, but as he squeezed the trigger, the demon leapt off the railing and returned to propelling itself up the stairs. He shot at it again, this time actually hitting it in the arm, but the demon barely slowed. He began to back up down the hall, colliding with Dante as he belatedly realized that the older man had been firing his guns as well. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that there were three more of those fast crawling demons clawing their way towards them.

Dante didn't appear to be having must luck hitting them either, though Nero would admit the other hunter's reflexes were faster than his own.

"Up?" Nero asked as the demons closed in. They needed more room to fight and the demons were caging them in from both sides.

"Up." Dante agreed and fired off another volley of shots from his twin pistols as Nero ran for the next flight of stairs. Dante was following close behind, but he still nearly got raked by the claws of the demon that had been coming up from the ground floor.

They ran up to the next floor, only to see two more of the demons crawling out of apartments, somehow managing to hold themselves up on the ceiling and still move forward, furthering Nero's thoughts relating them to spiders. The two hunters didn't pause once they saw the demons and continued sprinting up the stairs to the top floor, hearing the demons' ragged panting and hissing behind them the whole way.

Once on the top floor, Dante looked down the hall. He didn't see any immediate signs of anymore demons, so he grabbed Nero's sleeve and hauled them back about halfway down the hall, guns still trained on the staircase, waiting for the demons to catch up.

"I can barely track them." Nero admitted. "I may have hit one, but it didn't do much."

Dante shook his head. "Think swords would do any better?"

Probably not, but Nero didn't say so. They had only a few seconds to come up with some kind of strategy before the first two demons that had been on the third floor below them came scuttling around the corner. Both were panting, but didn't seem to be tiring at all. Nero started to fire, but they hopped up onto the walls, the ceiling, and one even ducked into an open apartment for cover. Dante ran past him, sword drawn and though it was probably stupid, they had little else to work with.

Dante had barely stopped short of running headfirst into one of the demons before he swung Rebellion and managed to knock it off the ceiling, stunning it long enough for Nero to take a shot. The younger hunter made it count, aiming right between the demon's beady black eyes that were slanted and set high on its forehead.

They didn't say anything, but silently they agreed on their battle strategy. Nero kept close behind Dante as the older hunter used his sword to try and knock the demons down so they would stay still long enough for Nero to deliver a kill shot. They managed to kill three and both hunters were feeling pretty good about being able to finish the job, their new position right near the head of the staircase. With only three left, Nero felt a lot more confidence and forgot about his uneasy feelings from before as he reloaded his revolver. Then Dante suddenly dropped his sword and stopped moving.

Dante wasn't sure what happened. One moment he'd been about to swing at one of the demons crawling right towards him, when an odd ringing began in his ears, drowning out any other sound. His vision dimmed, colors going opaque and distorting his depth perception. The demons themselves seemed to vanish, and he found himself staring down an empty hallway. At the opposite end from where he stood, he saw something cast light against the far wall. A shadow darted across it. It definitely wasn't human, the form squat and moving in stiff, jerky movements. Even though it was just a cast shadow, Dante felt something staring at him and instinctively lifted Ivory to shoot. He could dimly hear the bullet leaving the barrel and it seemed to move in slow motion as it made its way down the hall towards the shadow.

"_Dante, what are you doing?"_

Everything suddenly moved back into real time as he heard those warped sounding words, the bullet he'd shot had put a hole in the far wall, but the demons he and Nero had been fighting weren't in front of him anymore. Instead they were on him, one wrapped around his upper body and the other pulling his legs out from under him. He had no idea what happened to the third, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Nero next to him, shoving the barrel of Blue Rose against the back of the skull of the demon clawing at his legs. Dante finally regained enough sense to start fighting back and pulled an arm free to grab and throw the last demon off of him. It hit the ground hard and scrambled to get back on its feet, twisting its back in a spineless way that was incredibly disturbing to watch. He moved to shoot at it, but right at that second he saw the shadow again, his vision dimming once more.

Instead of being at the end of an empty hall, the shadow was right in front of him, its boney hands sporting four knuckled fingers tipped with cracked nails. Dante lifted his arms to defend himself, and the next thing he knew he was falling, a distorted, yet oddly familiar voice calling after him.

"_DANTE!"_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Here's the next installment of this story (that I'm partially prepared for but mostly winging it). Admittedly, this chapter is shorter than the others I've written so far for this story. I couldn't quite figure out what else to put into it. So forgive the abrupt ending. But things are heating up. Prepare yourselves for some serious physical abuse between these guys next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** To the ones who reviewed. You know who you are. -love-

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><p>His ears were ringing again. He wasn't sure if the ringing was the cause, but he had a splitting headache now as well. Groaning, Dante tried to lift his head and failed. His entire body felt like lead, but whatever he was laying on was incredibly uncomfortable. Any time he tried to roll to his side, however, something ground in his back and he was forced to stop. Taking a few deep breaths, he ignored the thick coppery taste in his mouth and attempted to take stock of everything. His eyes, even though they were open, couldn't see much beyond shapes, so he closed them again. His back was killing him and his chest felt heavy. But his heart was beating at least. He must've broken something important if he couldn't even move.<p>

"_Dante?"_

His brow furrowed at the familiar voice that still sounded a bit distant. It was the same voice he heard right before he fell and everything went black.

He fell.

Dante opened his eyes again and forced them to focus. Blinking rapidly, he managed to make out the railing of the staircase that wound its way in a large square all the way up to the fourth floor landing way above his head. Jesus, did he fall all the way from up there? No wonder he couldn't move and felt like hell.

"Dante, are you awake?"

He blinked again at the voice that was so much clearer now, eyes adjusting to focus on the face hovering above his own. _Nero._ Those were Nero's blue eyes that were staring down at him in concern. Nero's face that was pinched in worry. Nero's cute little mouth that was turned down in a severe frown. Dante let his eyes close as he felt Nero's hand brush his hair off his forehead. It was ridiculous to think of how much he relished the gentleness between them at a time like this, but he did. It had been so damn long since Nero had ever lifted a hand to him that didn't include punching his face in.

"Dante!" Nero said sharply and he jumped as the kid gave him a sharp slap to the cheek.

"Ow…" he grumbled, opening his eyes to glare up at Nero. So much for having a moment… "What the hell was that for?" his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears as the ringing faded, and it was hard to marshal enough breath to speak; but even as he dwelled on how much his injuries hurt, they were healing.

"You couldn't just tell me you're alright, you have to go and make a scene. Damn it, I thought you were dead." Nero snapped, taking his hand away and sitting upright. He looked back up at the stairwell. From down here on the ground floor, it really did seem like an impossibly long drop. When Dante had first gone over the railing, Nero swore that for a split second his heart stopped. He'd had the absurd and completely irrational urge to throw himself off after the older half-devil. Nero feared that if it hadn't been for the last living demon suddenly leaping onto him and shoving him to the floor, he would have. After kicking the demon off and shooting it, Nero had raced down the stairs as fast as he could, finally giving up and leaping off the second floor to land next to where Dante had lain unmoving.

For a minute, he actually thought Dante was dead. The devil hunter hadn't been breathing that Nero could see, and he wouldn't wake or respond to anything Nero said or did. Helpless, all he could've thought to do was kneel there at Dante's side and wait. It was nearly completely dark out by now, so it must've been hours of just waiting. Any time Nero thought he should go find help, that nagging inner voice of his demon side told him to stay. He _had_ to stay with Dante, dead or alive.

So when the fear of Dante being dead and gone had lifted and the older male made it clear he was conscious and on the way to a fast recovery thanks to his demonic healing – in turn making Nero worry for nothing – he had lost his temper for all of the time and emotion that had been wasted on his part. "I should've just left you for dead." Nero muttered, mostly to himself.

"Yeah, maybe you should have." Dante grunted in reply as he sat up slowly, lingering pain radiating through his upper body. He watched Nero stomp off out the front door of the apartment building with a resigned sigh. Nero's barbed words didn't seem to affect him outwardly, but inside he felt…colder. Emptier. It didn't seem fair that Nero could still have that kind of power over his emotions.

After a minute had passed and he decided that Nero was ditching him, Dante pushed up to his feet. His back was stiff, but nothing seemed to be broken anymore. He'd be fine to walk home. But first he had to find out where the landlord for this place had fled to. The man owed him money for coming out here to clean out the demon problem. He admitted he could probably put that off until tomorrow – after all, it was already dark out – but Dante felt like avoiding going back to Devil May Cry as long as possible. Nero's little flair of temper was a sure sign they were fast on the dead end track of another nasty fight.

Dante pushed open the door to step outside when he suddenly was struck with an odd chill that crept down his spine. Before he could even react to the sensation, the door was ripped out of his hand and an arm shot in to grab at his coat, dragging him roughly outside. He stumbled out into the courtyard, trying to regain his balance even as another of those crawling pink demons landed heavily on his chest, driving him to the ground, its salivating jaws snapping mere inches from his face where he held it back. The half-devil grabbed at either side of the demon's neck and shoved his knee into its bony chest to get leverage to vault it over his head and away, allowing him to swing up to his feet and pull out his twin guns.

Adrenaline flooding through him, expecting another fight, Dante was surprised when nothing came at him. He peered into the shadows around the fence, tense and waiting, but it was like the demon he kicked off just ran. But why would it bother dragging him out and launching a first attack if it was only going to retreat?

He was just starting to ease down his guard when he heard footsteps coming up behind him from the direction of the street. Dante spun around as he squeezed off a shot – freezing when he saw Nero stumbling back a few steps, pressing his demonic right hand tightly against his chest. Under the orange glow of the streetlight, he could see the dark stain of blood spreading under Nero's blue coat.

"Nero…"

"What the hell, Dante?" Nero hissed; the aggressive blue glow of his Devil Bringer bright enough to light up the entire block. "I come back to help you up because you weren't behind me and you _shoot_ me?"

That set off Dante's ire. "Maybe if you weren't skulking around, I wouldn't have thought you were an enemy." Dante's tone implied that maybe Nero was just that. An enemy.

Nero glared at the unspoken accusation. "I wasn't skulking, I came to help you! I thought you'd be right behind me."

"After you so sweetly pointed out you'd rather just leave me for dead? Yeah, I can see how you'd make that assumption." Dante replied dryly.

"Just…forget it." Nero said after a moment of tense, angry silence between them. He had felt sort of bad for what he'd said before, and the thought of Dante maybe being injured more severely than he'd let on had been enough incentive to give his suddenly so concerned demonic side sway over his angry, bitter human heart.

That was his other problem, Nero thought as he walked down the sidewalk, leaving Dante behind again. His demon side was driving him to concern when the more vengeful human side of him just wanted to beat Dante's skull in. He was still pressing his hand against the bullet lodged in his sternum to staunch the bleeding as he walked faster. An inch or so to the left and Dante would've hit his heart. It was clearly meant to be a kill shot for anything less than a part-devil like Nero. But if Dante was going to start the fight this time, that was fine by him. Even now, Nero's trigger finger itched to return the favor. Maybe he'd put a bullet right in Dante's thick head and then they'd be even.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Well, here it is. FINALLY. Jeez, I'm sorry guys. I spent the past week agonizing over this chapter. So much I wanted to have happen. So much that could've been better. However, this is all I can get out. I'm not forcing anything else out of it. I'll probably skip around a lot out of sheer laziness, so you'll have to use your imaginations.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** To Allison, for being so damn awesome. To Pinch Me by the Barenaked Ladies, for its greatness. And to you guys. My readers/reviewers who love me no matter what crap I put up for you to read, because you remind me every day that it doesn't matter what I write, you all would love it anyway. Hearts to you all!

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><p>Nero walked into Devil May Cry, feet dragging with every step he took. It was completely dark out at that point. He had no idea how long he'd wandered the city, easing his temper and delaying returning to the devil hunting office. But now it was late and growing cold. He needed to eat something and get some sleep. Hopefully he could avoid Dante completely if the elder man was going to look for that person who owed them money for killing those demons in his apartment building.<p>

Instead, as he walked inside, his eyes instinctively went over to where Dante was sitting on the edge of his desk rather than behind it, taking a deep pull from a half empty bottle of liquor from his personal bar in the far corner. Nero's irritation flared at the sight. Dante drinking wasn't anything new, but he really only tended to hit the heavy stuff when he wanted to ignore everyone and everything around him. And that included Nero right now. He wasn't even going to apologize for shooting Nero earlier that day.

"Figures." He snorted as he walked into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him.

Dante looked up with a carefully bored expression, curling and uncurling his fingers around the neck of the bottle made of muddy brown glass. "You don't _have_ to be here. In fact, why _are_ you still here? Does your life really suck so badly that you have to come here and make me miserable just to make yourself feel better?"

The purposefully nasty way Dante said that snapped what hold Nero had gained back on his temper. The tension between them had culminated up to this from the very moment they laid eyes on each other two days ago. Usually a mission or two could keep them rather amiable, but so much had gone wrong back at that apartment building that it only sped up the process of growing fed up with each other and fighting.

"Go to hell," Nero said curtly even as he reached for his gun to finally act on the urge he'd had to shoot Dante back since he'd taken a bullet to the chest for no apparent reason.

Dante dropped the bottle he'd been holding and pushed up from leaning on the desk. He reached out to knock away Nero's arm a split second before the trigger was pulled, two bullets zipping right past his head and burying themselves into the wall. He twisted Nero's wrist to make him drop his revolver, but that was as far as he got before the younger man lunged at him, their bodies colliding and sliding over the desk.

They both hit the ground hard, knocking over the heavy chair. Nero recovered first and sat up, gripping the front of Dante's black shirt with his left hand, curling his devil bringer into a fist. He landed maybe four solid punches with bone shattering force before Dante managed to kick him in the stomach, the force of it sending Nero skidding back across the floor several feet.

Taking the opening, Dante gained his feet just in time to grab at Nero's boot that was coming towards his already bleeding face. He adjusted his grip as he turned and threw the other devil slayer by the leg. Nero hit the wall on the opposite side of the room, leaving behind a large crack that snaked its way all the way up to the ceiling, but neither paused to care about the damage.

Nero slid down to the floor, shaking off the stunning blow. He raked his hair back from his face, climbing stiffly over the couch to get up and meet Dante, who was stalking across the room towards him, halfway.

They continued to exchange bone rattling blows, by turns injuring the other and being injured. Both refused to show any sign of tiring. But though their demonic blood helped them to heal and gave them the stamina to fight so hard for so long, the darker sides of their nature remained silent. Neither devil side was roused to anger. All of the violence was centered solely in their broken human hearts.

One particularly hard punch to the chest sent Dante flying through one of the large windows on either side of the front door, spilling the devil hunter into the street, glass raining down around him. He had to lie for a moment and try to catch his breath, all the air knocked out of him from the blow even as the shattered bones in his chest crackled as they reset and healed themselves. He sat up and glared at Nero who was standing on the other side of the broken window. The younger man simple glared right back and braced himself just as Dante vaulted up to his feet and dove back inside, tackling Nero to the floor. Nero promptly wrapped his legs tightly around Dante's waist, trying to roll over and flip their positions, but Dante grabbed at his arms and pinned them down as well.

For a full minute they stayed like that, blue eyes clashing, full of bitterness and unspoken, but blatantly obvious, hurt. The anger sparked between them, the tension only rising higher as they panted from the exertion of their fight. The shop itself was a mess. There were cracks in the walls, claw marks on the floors, the couch was overturned and now there was a shattered window.

"I hate you." Nero spat.

Dante just leaned more of his weight into the struggling hunter's arms, bringing their faces closer together. "Believe me, kid, the feeling is entirely mutual. Next time you leave, don't bother coming back. You won't be welcome."

Nero growled back at that and Dante didn't know what possessed him. One moment they were on the verge of ripping out each other's throats and yet the second Dante uttered those words, their lips clashed. There was nothing gentle or even passionate about the kiss, it was nothing but teeth and tongues mashing together. The hands that had been previously exchanging blows were now tearing away clothing, mouths moving apart to bite and claw at what flesh was exposed before inevitably returning back to duel with each other.

Whatever was happening between them, neither could seem to stop; neither seemed to want to stop. Nero had the faint thought that one of them should say no. There was no way this would end well. In fact it could only make their problems worse, but the rage had switched outlets and he felt powerless to push Dante away. He had no doubts that the resulting sex was going to be intense, and probably incredible in its own twisted way. And that would be just his luck.

_Hell, it's going to be perfect._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hrr_

**A/N:** Next chapter here. As I said previously, you all are going to have to use your imaginations for the time being. I do not currently have sexy-inspiration, so you'll have to be patient. I'll get around to adding the good stuff to this later in the story for sure. For now, I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter. I'm rather satisfied with it, seeing as it's sufficiently long to counteract the short chapter before it.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom

**Warnings:** This is the beginning of when I torture my chosen scapegoat for the good of the plot.

**Dedications:** Everyone. Everything. Enjoy.

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><p>It wasn't perfect.<p>

Early morning light spilled in through the windows, casting a dim glow in the now silent room. Devil May Cry was an absolute disaster now. What hadn't been trashed by the fight had been smashed or clawed or tossed around in the resulting bouts of violent, senseless sex. Both hunters were naked on the floor, Dante sitting half propped up against the wall behind what was left of the bar, quietly taking slow drinks from one of the few bottles that hadn't been shattered in the past couple hours. A purposeful foot away, Nero was lying on his side, face buried in the crook of his devil arm; the azure glow dulled from the nearly painful regret washing through the younger man. The sex itself hadn't been bad. It was the fact that he'd just let it happen that was so damn awful. Nero let out a low groan, a vain attempt to express just how stupid he felt at that moment.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He asked nobody in particular.

Dante glanced over briefly before taking another drink from the near empty bottle. He knew Nero wasn't talking to him, but he had to swallow back the urge reply that welled up. He wasn't sure how he should feel right now. The last thing he'd expected from them was to go from trying to kill each other straight into an unbridled bout of rough, anger fueled fucking. A part of him was glad it happened. Even though he'd told himself all his positive feelings for Nero were long gone, he knew it wasn't true. Being with the younger man again, no matter in what context had been gratifying. The more reasonable part of him said it was an irreversible mistake. Something that never should have been allowed to happen.

He felt it the instant their anger had been spent. Just one look at Nero's expression and he knew he regretted every second of what they'd done. For some reason, Dante got a sharp stab in the heart from that look. As much as he'd like to believe he was past allowing Nero to hurt him anymore that instant anguish on the kid's face broke his heart all over again.

Taking in a slow breath, Dante let it out on a sigh, setting the now empty bottle down on the floor.

"So…what are we going to do now?" could they really go back to their routine of hating each other? This was something entirely new to come out of their loathing of each other. Who knew what else could happen if they continued in this cycle?

Nero was silent for a long while before slowly lifting his head from his arm. "…I'm leaving."

That…was not what Dante had expected. "What?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the surprise in his voice.

Nero pushed up off the floor to stand. Every movement he made was slow and stiff. Every part of him ached in some way. He stood for a moment to regain his bearings, not sure he was stable enough to walk, but he had to get away from Dante. The younger man rubbed both hands over his face and grimaced as he took a step. His whole body was covered in dried blood, sweat and semen. What a fucking mess they'd made of each other and the room. Nero walked past the remnants of furniture and their shredded clothes, managing to make it all the way to the stairs before he paused, oddly compelled to answer.

"I'm going to clean up, pack my things and leave. Honestly, I shouldn't have come back here at all, you were right." He said quietly. He made it up the staircase almost halfway before Dante got to his feet and followed, but only as far as the bottom of the steps.

"Nero—''

"Don't worry. I remember what you said. I won't ever come back here after I'm gone."

Dante's chest tightened so brutally he couldn't breathe as he watched Nero ascend the rest of the stairs and disappear down the dark hallway above. He had said that, hadn't he? He told Nero never to bother coming back if he decided to leave again. Just like before, his own words were what drove the kid away. He tried to come up with something he could say, something that Nero would actually listen to and believe.

Sighing in disgust, mostly at himself but also at his complicated life in general, Dante went back over to what remained of the bar, rifling through the broken bottles to find one that still had some liquor in it. The shards clinked together as he shuffled them around, finally locating a bottle that was lying on its side. It had already spilled half its contents, but anything was better than nothing. He grabbed the bottle and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as he slowly sank back down to the floor. He didn't even care that his shop was destroyed. All he cared about was the fact that now he was going to have to learn to be alone again; for good this time.

Dante pressed his palm against his forehead, grunting as he realized his head had been buzzing, temples beginning to throb in time with his pulse. _Great. I never get headaches._ Something else had to be seriously wrong then. He was too tired to want to deal with it though so he remained where he sat, trying to ignore the way his head pounded and his ears started to ring.

-o-o-o-

Nero found himself lingering over every task he had left before him before he could get out of Devil May Cry and get as far away as possible. He stood in the shower longer than necessary, too busy trying not to think. It was for the best that he left anyways. Even if their fighting ended, they would only be back to where they started two years ago. Call him old fashioned, but Nero preferred more from a relationship than just great sex whenever two people felt an itch.

He left the bathroom eventually, going straight down the hall to the spare room he used. His bag was still pretty much packed. He hadn't expected to stay here long anyways, but three days had to be a new lame record for him. Sighing, Nero pulled out some fresh clothes from his duffel bag and dressed. He looked around the room with a sort of melancholy. It was from one spare room to another for him. He had nowhere else to go except back to Fortuna. Maybe he should consider finding an entirely new city to live in. Start fresh in a new place where no one knew him.

Except then he'd be lonely _and_ alone.

Grunting in frustration, Nero zipped up his duffel and shrugged it onto his shoulder. Red Queen and Blue Rose were downstairs by the door, so he could just pick them up on his way out. He half hoped that Dante had gotten up and gone to his room or something. He really didn't want to walk past him even if just for a second to get to the door.

Unable to find any reason to keep delaying his departure, the young devil hunter turned to leave the room when he stopped cold, a sharp tingle shooting up his spine to settle at the base of his neck. He was so distracted by the strange energy that suddenly permeated the room, staring at the way his devil bringer flashed a blinding white before it went completely dark like it shut itself off to hide from something, he almost didn't hear Dante screaming.

_Screaming?_

Dante didn't scream. But there was no other way to describe the nose that was coming from downstairs. No doubt it was Dante's voice, and he was screaming in pure agony.

Nero's heart dropped into his stomach and within a second he'd dropped his duffel and was running down the hall to the stairs. He again was frozen in his tracks as he leaned over the balcony to see what was wrong.

Crouched over Dante in the corner by the broken bar, was some kind of creature Nero had never seen before. It was short and squat, its yellow skin sagging heavily off its bones, as if it were melting. It's back was to the younger man, so he couldn't see its face, only that he was bent over Dante and had its palms pressed tightly over the half-devil's eyes, light flickering between its long, four knuckled fingers. Whatever it was doing, Dante made it sound like it was killing him.

Nero jumped over the railing of the balcony, landing in a crouch on the floor. He didn't even try to grab a weapon, just ran at the demon. "Get the fuck away from him!"

The demon jumped to the side at the last moment, barely avoiding being struck. Nero had a moment to note that it had absolutely no face. Save for two narrow slits that looked almost like what remained of a nose, there was just blank, sagging skin.

Growling, Nero tried to grab at the thing with his devil bringer, only to be horrified to learn that it wasn't working. Whatever had stopped it from glowing also seemed to have drained all its power. Nero stared down at his right hand, jaw going slack which gave the demon the opening it needed to waddle on its bowed legs out of the still broken window and disappear down the street.

The moment the demon had taken away its hands, Dante had dropped down to the floor, panting raggedly. Nero was tempted to run after the demon and make sure it was killed, but Dante needed his attention more. He turned to the older hunter and knelt down, lightly trailing his hands over the prone form to feel for any broken bones. There were no obvious injuries, and other than being extremely pale and shaking from a cold sweat, Dante seemed perfectly fine. But then why would he scream in pain like that?

"Dante? Hey," Nero rolled the other man over onto his back and shook his shoulder gently. "Come on, old man, wake up, you're fine." He wasn't entirely sure of that, but he said it anyway.

Dante's slack expression became suddenly tense. He squeezed his eyes shut and lifted a shaking hand to cover them. His head felt like someone had run it over and then decided to back up a few times. "Damn…" he finally said, his voice tight and the humor forced, "You get the license plate of the thing that ran me over, kid?"

Nero relaxed a little at that, helping Dante sit up. "Jesus, I thought you were dead there for a second. Didn't know you could scream like that."

Dante scowled as he rubbed his burning eyes. "I didn't scream." He denied.

"Yes you did. Like a little girl." Nero insisted, looking over his shoulder towards the broken window the demon escaped out of. What the hell was that thing anyway? What had it been trying to do and why didn't Dante stop it? From the looks of things, it had to have just strolled right up to him because where Dante had been sitting he had a clear view of the windows and front doors. Nero spared a thought for what the demon's presence seemed to do to his devil bringer and looked down at his arm. It was back to its usual azure glow, pulsing a bit rapidly because he was still a bit pumped up from adrenaline. Maybe it had drained Dante in a similar way and that's why he couldn't fight back? "Whatever that thing was, it didn't seem to do any lasting damage. You should get up and put some clothes on." He added.

Dante snorted at that but didn't move. Instead he sat there, hands hovering a few inches below his face as he blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. He seemed suddenly tense and Nero felt his stomach twist up into knots. Something was wrong, he just knew it.

"Dante, are you alright?"

The older man didn't seem to hear him, instead turning his head to either side, then tilting it back before looking down towards his lap, concentration tightening his features. Nero scowled at being ignored and leaned over to try and get Dante's attention. His stomach felt like it had turned into a solid weight when he noticed that something seemed off about Dante's eyes. They were the same silvery blue, but the color seemed more intense somehow, and though Dante seemed to be straining to look down at his hands, his gaze was actually directed a couple inches above them and his eyes were unfocused.

"Dante…"

"Nero," Dante interrupted. "….I think I'm blind."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** So here I am, bringing you guys yet another chapter so soon after the last one. As for this chapter itself, I apologize for it. I managed to make it sufficiently long, and would've made it even longer, but I decided to cut it short. Also, forgive my lame little plot twists. My plotting skills have never been very high and, well, I've had a toxic friend resurface recently and that's really bringing down my confidence.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** The ones who review.

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><p>"This place is more disgusting than ever."<p>

Lady carefully picked her way across the destroyed shop, tiptoeing around debris and new stains. Devil May Cry had always been a dump, but this was an all-time low. She supposed it was to be expected, though. After all, she'd heard that Nero was back. She really underestimated the damage those two idiots could cause together, however.

She paused when Trish came up behind her and laid a cool hand on her shoulder, drawing the human woman to a halt. The two of them had been purposefully avoiding a visit to until the two devil boys separated again, but neither could ignore Trish's bad premonition when they received a phone call full of bad news earlier that morning. It was nearly noon now, but that was the earliest the two of them could get there.

"It's about time you got here," Dante grumbled from where he was lying with his eyes closed, stretched out on his back on the poor red couch that had seen better days _before_ it got nearly hacked to pieces. Dante didn't seem to care about any of the damage. He hadn't even bothered to put on a shirt, the lazy bastard.

"Well excuse us for actually doing our jobs while you tear crap apart with your moody ex." Lady snapped back, crossing her arms with a huff.

Speaking of, Nero was actually in the room too. Lady hadn't noticed him at first because he was being unusually quiet. The younger part-devil was leaning against Dante's desk, arms wrapped tightly around himself. His eyes were narrowed on Dante, but it was hard to tell if he was actually angry or not.

Moving around Lady, Trish made her way over to where Dante lie. She leaned down, pulling her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and frowned. "You smell different."

Dante snorted at that, but didn't open his eyes, instead lifting an arm over his head and slowly dragging it down to cover them. "I've done a lot in the past six hours."

"That's not what I mean." Trish interrupted sharply. She reached out and lightly touched Dante's pale face. "I mean that your natural scent, the one that comes from your demonic aura, is different."

Dante tensed at the news, as did Nero, Lady observed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. "What the hell is wrong with you anyway? You're still breathing, so why is this an emergency? If you think we're going to help you clean up this mess, you can forget it."

Trish sent Lady a dark look as she stood back upright. Before she could speak, though, Dante dropped his arm and sat up. He turned his head in Lady's direction, but his unfocused gaze was off by a few feet to her right.

"I really don't care what you do, Lady, I only needed Trish to give me some advice on how to fix this." He made to point at his eyes, but again his spacial guesswork was off.

Lady blinked at the clouded, glossy sheen over Dante's eyes. Curious if what she saw was real she went over to the couch and waved her hand in front of the half-devil's face.

Dante didn't even blink.

She drew in a sharp breath and dropped her hand. "God, so you're really blind?"

"Apparently."

"You can't see anything? At all?"

"That's generally what 'blind' means." Dante replied dryly, eyes falling half-lidded. Clearly, being unable to see didn't stop Dante from giving his trademark mocking looks. Lady was half-tempted to shoot him.

"I'd hurt you, but I'd feel bad injuring a cripple." She said blithely as she turned away.

Dante growled at that statement, but his response was cut off as Trish grabbed his face and turned it towards her to get a better look.

"Hmm…what kind of demon did this?"

"I have no clue." Dante answered. Outwardly he was completely calm, but inside he was fighting off a strange panic. Being blind wasn't really the trouble. He was confident he could fix it. What bothered him was that after Nero had helped him call the girls, get some clothes on, and then right the couch so he wouldn't have to sit on the floor, the kid had walked away and said nothing. He had been nearly positive that Nero hadn't left, he was sure he would've heard the door, but then why wouldn't he say anything? Dante found himself doubting that Nero was even still there. It wouldn't be hard to quietly slip out while he was so disoriented. And he _did_ say he was leaving and never coming back.

"What did it do exactly?" Trish asked, bringing him out of his distressing thoughts.

Dante tried to think, but looking back on the attack, his memory was hazy. "I'm not sure. I started getting a headache and then it was just…there, right in front of me. It reached out and…" he frowned and closed his useless eyes as they started to burn in remembrance. "I don't know what it did, but when it touched me, it felt like something was tearing my insides out through my eyes."

"Gross." Lady muttered at the mental image that created. "No wonder you're so pale."

And tired. Dante was managing to hide it for now, but he felt cold and indescribably exhausted. His body felt like it weighed an extra hundred pounds and he ended up laying back down, too tired to hold himself up anymore. "I must have blacked out for a second. When I came to, everything was dark. I thought it would go away, but it hasn't yet." He finished.

Not only that but Dante found that along with his blindness, his body didn't seem to feel the same. He felt oddly empty, like some vital part of him was missing. And if the blindness was caused by an injury, it wasn't healing; just another thing to worry over.

Humming in thought, Trish moved away from the couch. "So, you didn't get a good look at the demon." She said before turning her attention to the still silent Nero on the other side of the room. "Did you?"

Nero looked up from the spot he'd been staring at on the floor, listening to the three of them trying to figure out what was going on. He'd been feeling strangely numb since Dante first said he couldn't see. Part of it was shock, but he suspected most of it was from guilt. If he hadn't been dragging his feet getting his things packed, maybe he would've caught the demon before it could get to Dante. Hell, if he hadn't come back at all, Dante might have been less distracted and could have defended himself. Since he'd come back, already Dante had been hurt twice, and this time it seemed like the damage was permanent.

"I…only got a quick look." Nero finally replied. He noticed how Dante jerked at the sound of his voice. The older man looked surprised. Did he really think that Nero would leave after what had happened? Did he have that low an opinion of him? Nero suddenly felt his mood dropping further as he described the demon to an attentive Trish and a curious Lady.

"A Collector then." Trish concluded after Nero finished describing the demon. She frowned slightly as she flipped her hair back again. She realized quickly that everyone was waiting for her to explain and sighed. "Collectors are rather mild-mannered demons. They can only walk in the human world if they're summoned. They aren't used often, but every now and then humans manage to get their hands on the ritual. A demon wouldn't bother using one."

Dante wasn't pleased with the fact that someone had hired out a creepy little slave to take something from him. "So, what? This thing was sent to collect my life or something?"

Trish shook her head and looked over at the broken window by the front door. "No. Collectors are only sent out to retrieve souls. Despite superstition, a person can easily live without one."

"That just doesn't make any sense. Who would want _his_ dirty soul?" Lady asked, belatedly realizing that she was chewing at her gloved thumb. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but Dante was her friend, and the idea that someone was out to get him made her want to shoot something.

"Thanks. Love you too, Lady." Dante said drolly.

"It helps to think of it this way," Trish broke in, averting another argument. "Souls are a seat of power, which is why demons enjoy devouring them. Whatever power is in the soul is absorbed by the one who steals it." She nodded at Dante. "As a half-breed, Dante has tremendous amounts of power, whether he uses them or not."

"How are you so certain that this thing was a Collector?" Nero demanded. They were the first words he'd spoken in a while. He was trying to follow all of this, but what he really wanted to do was go find that demon and kill it in the hopes that it would somehow make Dante better.

The two women turned their eyes on him and Nero shifted a bit under their scrutiny. He got the distinct feeling that they could easily tell just how upset he was over what happened to Dante. And he didn't much care that they could read him so easily. His emotions were private and not for public view. It was probably for the best that Dante couldn't see if he was being so transparent.

"The eyes are the windows to the soul." Trish said at length. "The Collector was tearing out Dante's soul when you chased it off. It doesn't seem to have gotten all of it, but it stole just enough to weaken him. I doubt there's much left of that devil-side he's so fond of, which explains why he smells so different. He's practically human right now."

That left Nero with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "So how do we get it back?"

Trish looked saddened for a moment before her expression was carefully blanked. She moved away from the couch and went to stand at Lady's side. "There's not much we can do. The Collector is probably long gone back to its master by now with what it managed to get. We can only hope that the person who summoned it is greedy enough to want what's left and sends the Collector again so you can follow it back to the one who summoned it."

In other words, it didn't seem like Nero was going anywhere for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry this is so late!_

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter, I didn't mean for this to take so long. I was halfway done with it and had the other half handwritten, but then I got really super busy at work AND a dog I'm watching for someone bit my hand, so I had to wait for it to stop hurting enough to type the second half up. I'm getting really sick of letting people use up my good nature. It's like high school all over again. ANYWAYS, I don't know if it was the gap between the two halves being put together, but this chapter feels...off to me. Well, hope you guys like it anyway! I mean, it's extra long after all, though it's mostly centered on character development. The plot will get moving next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** All you people who have only nice things to say about my writing! I love you all so so much!

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><p>Nero sighed to himself as he swept up the remaining shards of glass off the floor. For the past hour or so, he had been cleaning up the pieces of broken bottles and furniture, sweeping and trying in vain to wash the floor and walls. It gave him something to do and the place needed to be cleaned anyways. Somehow Dante's desk had survived with little more than a few deep scratches on its surface. The chair was another story, however. What was left he'd already stuffed into a garbage bag that was sitting by the door, waiting with about four others to be taken to the dumpster. The office looked better overall, but with a hole in the window, only half of the bar still standing, and most of the furniture unsalvageable, it was rather sparse.<p>

Lady had grudgingly promised to keep an eye out for the Collector, or anyone who might possibly be the one who summoned it, before she left. Trish had taken a different approach and went to do research. She seemed to doubt that, even if they managed to catch the Collector and its master, they could retrieve Dante's soul.

It didn't help that Dante himself wasn't expressing any concern for the situation. The idiot could at least pretend to be worried. Nero was going out of his mind running through all the 'what ifs' of their circumstances.

But right on the heels of that blooming irritation was a sharp stab of guilt. He had no right to be getting angry at Dante. The older man wasn't doing anything to warrant Nero's antagonism. In fact, knowing Dante, the accepting silence and lack of apparent care was probably his way of coping. Nero couldn't even imagine what it must feel like to lose such an integral part of him. He wasn't as in-tune with his devil-side as Dante, but he guessed that it couldn't be easy. It was bad enough that the famed devil hunter had lost his sight. Dante relied heavily on his eyes in his line of work.

Nero set the broom aside and tied closed the last of the garbage bags, purposefully making as much noise as possible. The silence was killing him. With neither of them speaking and the streets outside quiet, he was stuck listening to his own thoughts and they weren't comforting at all.

He started to collect the bags together when Dante suddenly turned his head towards the front door.

"Nero."

Just his name, nothing else; but the soft note of tension, of _fear_, had Nero freezing on the spot. He looked back at the couch where Dante was still lying. He'd been quiet since Lady and Trish left. For that matter, he'd barely moved. Nero had to wonder if he might have fallen asleep while the younger man cleaned.

Nero had to clear his throat before he could speak, and even then the words still came out hoarse. "Yeah?"

Dante seemed to relax a little when he got a reply, and it was then that Nero realized he hadn't said anything to Dante since that morning. If it weren't for the noise he made while cleaning, Dante very well could have thought he'd been left all alone.

When Dante didn't say anything else, just stared blindly up at the ceiling, hands folded over his middle, Nero couldn't help but feel a spark of frustration. He had been hoping for a conversation, anything to break the oppressive silence. "I never thought you could be _more_ irritating by finally shutting up." He muttered and hauled up the garbage. As he walked out the door, he glanced back at Dante and was oddly relieved to see a faint grin on the man's face. It was better than the blank expression from before.

Dante listened to the doors close and let the grin slip away. This darkness he was trapped in was starting to get on his nerves. His ears were slowly beginning to pick up the slack of losing his sight, but his biggest issue now was the disturbing emptiness he felt. He wasn't really aware of it until it was gone, but he had always been able to feel a steady flow of power, a presence in the back of his mind. It had always given him added confidence. Without it, he felt a little lost.

He jumped slightly at the sound of the door opening and someone walking in. "Nero?" who else would it be? Well, he couldn't very well tell by himself anymore, could he?

"No, it's the pizza guy." Nero's voice, though heavily laden with sarcasm, was comforting to hear.

Dante's lips curled into a small smile again. The mention of pizza made his stomach rumble and he sighed lightly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He was still tired, and sitting up while being unable to see made him a little dizzy, which was strange enough of a sensation considering he couldn't even see the room spinning. "Too bad you aren't. I'm starving."

Nero snorted at that, his footsteps coming closer before stopping. Dante could just imagine the younger man standing over him and glaring. The mental image made his smile wider.

"Only _you_ could lose your soul and then want to eat pizza."

"That almost sounds flattering."

Nero felt his face flush as his temper spiked. "Well, it isn't." he turned to walk away but paused when he saw Dante's smile fade, the blinded hunter holding out his hand. He seemed to be concentrating on trying to reach something though there was only air before him.

"Nero,"

He hesitated at the way Dante had been saying his name all day. Almost…pleading. He wasn't sure what Dante wanted from him, but he caved and took the outstretched hand. Warm fingers wrapped around his instantly and Dante's eyes slowly closed as he released a held breath.

"Sorry." Nero didn't know what the old man was apologizing for, so he didn't reply even when Dante gave his hand a light tug. "About what I said," he added.

Nero frowned at that and let out an irritated noise. "So because you got your soul jacked and can't see you're humbled and feeling apologetic to the one person who might stick around and help you?"

"No. I really am sorry." Dante said quietly.

Nero forced himself to relax and not keep his guard up so high. "Don't worry about it." except that apology was fast working its way into his heart and starting to break down the bitter wall he'd built around it. Dante seemed so vulnerable now, and Nero knew he had no choice but to stay and help him through this. But if he wasn't careful, if he didn't keep his defenses up, he could easily let Dante back into his heart and chance having it broken a second time.

-o-o-o-

A couple days later brought clearer skies, the sun shining through the broken window up until Nero covered the hole in the glass panes with a tarp. It was nice weather for now, but it would inevitably start raining again. Putting up a cover now was better than scrambling to do it while in the middle of the wind and rain.

He was climbing down from the ladder he'd leaned up against the outside wall when he heard a loud thump from inside. He sighed as the sound was promptly followed by a curse. After spending that first day on his back, Dante had decided being blind wasn't going to make him an invalid. As such, the idiot was trying to navigate the office and was always running into what was left of the furniture.

Nero hopped off the last rung and went inside, holding the door open as he shook his head at the sight of Dante leaning over his desk, hands braced against the top as he leaned most of his weight off his left foot. "Injure anything important this time?" he asked with a sigh, silently noting that Dante's shirt was on backwards. Stupid jerk, insisting on dressing himself…he looked like a child.

"No." Dante gasped, gritting his teeth as he gingerly set his foot down. "Just broke my damn foot. What the hell is this anyway? I keep running into it."

"That's your desk, moron."

Dante scowled as he patted the surface. "Huh…who knew it was so damn solid…" he stood up straight and took a few limping steps back from the desk. "What is it doing in the middle of the room? It didn't use to be there."

Nero looked away at that, clearing his throat quietly. "Uh…I put it there." Seemed his cleaning had altered the room Dante was probably using his memory as a reference to navigate. "But it isn't in the middle of the room." He added defensively. Technically the desk was only a foot or so from its usual position. Nero frowned as he thought about that. No way was Dante's memory that specific.

Dante shook his head, lifting a hand slowly and rubbing the side of his neck before sliding it up to cover his eyes. He'd been doing that a lot, Nero noticed. After watching how carefully and hesitantly Dante moved, Nero had to wonder if he wasn't still in pain from what the Collector had done. The older man was always rubbing at his eyes and he didn't stand up as straight. That overwhelming, confident aura was gone, making Dante seem somehow…smaller.

"I'm hungry." Dante said, suddenly breaking the silence.

Nero instantly was irate. "Then you should've eaten this morning. And last night. And all the meals before then instead of complaining about it."

"It wasn't pizza." The older man replied almost petulantly.

"Pizza made you sick after just one piece last time! Of course I'm not letting you eat anymore."

Dante could feel the tension gathering in his brow, bringing on another headache. His whole life going without one and now he had them nearly every hour of every day. As things stood now, he was blind, lacking in demonic power, tired, and incredibly hungry. He'd barely eaten since the Collector's attack, but he had been insisting on his strict 'pizza only' rule; though honestly, he didn't really _want_ any. It was part of his decision to have normalcy, something familiar. Instead he felt a sick, burning sensation in his gut when he tried to eat pizza and the taste and texture just wasn't as palatable as it used to be. Although the alternatives were just as bad; Nero couldn't cook worth a damn.

He held his breath in the following silence, listening intently for a moment. Nero was standing relatively close to him still; he could feel the other's body heat, hear the soft draws of breath. The kid was surprisingly quiet when he didn't speak or fidget around. That impetuous behavior, the inability to sit still, seemed to have grown out of Nero over the past year or so. Dante found that he missed it, especially with these new circumstances.

"Just get me something to eat, punk. And whatever you do, _don't_ cook it yourself." Dante finally said.

There it was; that low growl of irritation. Nero still had a temper and no matter how mature he became, that would never change. It was a small fact he took comfort in. He was willing to take what familiarity he could in this new dark world he was stuck in.

"I should just leave you to starve, you ungrateful bastard." Nero replied with an angry snort.

Dante smirked at the expected response. "You forgot 'picky'."

"Damn it! Stop trying to get a rise out of me!"

"Why? It's working isn't it?"

As Nero started raving on about what a completely selfish asshole he was, Dante felt around and placed his hand back on the cool surface of his desk. In his mind he could see it. The dulled color of the wood, the many marks on it from all the times demons had attacked his shop. His fingers traced over all the gouges and scratches, pausing when he encountered five deep grooves near the edge. Even without seeing them, he knew what they were. Nero had made them a year ago. Right before the first fight that drove them apart. He'd moved the phone to cover the marks even though it had taken some getting used to, having the phone on the opposite side of the desk. He'd made the sacrifice to forget. Nero's absence had been easier to bear when he wasn't reminded of how happy he'd been when the kid was around.

"Are you even listening to me?" Nero's voice penetrated the haze of painfully nostalgic memories Dante had fallen into.

Instead of an answer, Dante took his hands away from the desk and crossed his arms. "So, are you going to get me some food or what?"

Nero fisted his hands and barely resisted the urge to punch the older man. "Fine! But you'd better start being nicer to me or I'll fucking poison you!" he snapped and went to stomp out the door, slamming it hard.

Dante tilted his head down towards the floor though he couldn't see it, ears ringing as his headache continued to throb through his temples. "You can do whatever you want, kid," he said to himself. "Just come back."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I feel bad that this took so long. I'm sorry people. I lost the notebook that I wrote down the plot synopsis for this story in, and once I found it, discovered that I didn't bother to plot past last chapter. UGH. So I had to finish up the plot and outline the next couple of chapters before I could start writing. Oh well, not a big deal. I got this out anyway, and it gave me a chance to rework some details and come up with different ideas. Sometimes losing an original plot can only do a story good.

Also, someone mentioned the song I used for the title of this story. While it IS a good song and does fit the story, I actually was inspired for this by a song by the Medic Droid called The Killer Anna. I don't know why that's relevant, but I felt like sharing, lol.

**Disclaimer: **Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications: **The weather for deciding to rain. When it rains, I always feel particularly inspired to write. And as always to you readers who keep me going even when my confidence and inspiration are running low. Bonus points for you guys._  
><em>

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><p>It was amazing how a person could become invisible if there were enough people around. Nero had noticed the phenomenon back when he first came to Capulet City. Fortuna was large enough in its own right, but it was a religious place; by default everyone knew everyone else because they all attended the same church. And it wasn't as if new people were flooding the island community. Here, in a real city, there was no hope of knowing every last person. Walking the streets in Capulet was like becoming a ghost. Nobody paid any particular attention to the people around them; they just kept their eyes forward and moved like they were on a mission. They couldn't walk through you, but some certainly tried if you got in the way.<p>

Nero found it a strange comfort to walk among a sea of people who didn't notice him. He was having a difficult time dealing with his convoluted emotions, and to be surrounded by a crowd who didn't care about why he might look sad or angry or confused was a respite he needed desperately.

He sighed as he waited to cross a street with a group of nameless strangers, casting a small glare down to the bag he was holding. Nero preferred to be invisible these days, but Dante was a completely different story. The one person he really wished would keep ignoring him didn't. Even being blind, Dante still wouldn't leave him alone. If anything, the idiot was more attentive than ever; more than even when they were together.

Someone bumped into him and Nero realized that the light was green. Not for the first time since he set out on the little shopping trip, he wished he'd taken the car instead of just stomping off in a fit. But the nearest store wasn't that far from the shop and some part of Nero's mind knew he needed the walk to work off steam. He walked across the street rather than stand and be trampled, mulling over his last thought. Perhaps that was why Nero couldn't shake his lingering anger. It took Dante becoming disabled and needing someone – anyone really – to help him for the older man to pay any real attention to him outside of a bedroom. His apparent worth to Dante was as low as ever, it seemed.

Nero resented the hell out of that.

"Feed me, Nero; get mad to amuse me, Nero; cater to my every whim, Nero," he recited bitterly to himself, half tempted to throw the bag of frozen dinners into the street and make Dante continue to go hungry. He didn't even seem to have his own devil side around to temper him when it came to the other devil hunter. Usually when Nero got the urge to really hurt Dante or run far away and never come back, that little voice in the back of his head would keep him from it; make him endure to the maximum of his tolerance and always return no matter how bad it got.

But since Dante was blinded, he didn't get that interference anymore. It was as if his demonic side had hidden itself away and had no intention of coming out any time soon. Nero had to wonder if it had anything to do with the fact that most, if not all, of Dante's devil power was stolen away. As much as the two of them fought, their devils had been content just to be near the other. Maybe…that part of him was silent because of the loss of its hunting companion. Maybe that lack of something to hold him back was part of why Nero felt so damn edgy. _Maybe I _can_ imagine how Dante feels,_ he decided.

Nero made it to the end of the block and rounded the corner, footsteps slowing before stopping completely. The sound of people walking by, their muted voices, parted around him, none taking notice of his pause. Nero could've sworn that he saw something at the far end of the street duck into a darkened alley. Normally he wouldn't care, but that just happened to be the direction leading to Devil May Cry, and his right arm was starting to grow warm. He knew without even looking that the devil bringer was glowing. Whatever he'd seen hadn't been his imagination, and it hadn't been human.

Unconsciously tightening his grip on the bag in his hand, Nero jogged down the street to the opening of the alley, peering down the narrow stretch of pavement squeezed between two large buildings. He didn't see anything that might be a demon or anything else. The alley was completely empty. Something about the whole situation made Nero tense. He suddenly had the urge to get back to Devil May Cry as fast as he could. Whether he really saw a demon or not, the premonition of something wrong couldn't be ignored; seemed his devil instincts weren't completely gone like he'd been thinking.

Ducking back out of the alley, Nero found himself sprinting towards home, not even stopping to think about how frantic he felt over the thought of Dante being in danger, or even how he'd referred to the devil hunting office as 'home'. Once he made it halfway down Slum Avenue, he skidded to a stop, panting as he stared wide-eyed at the creature standing at the base of the steps.

_No._

The Collector demon cocked its head before swiveling its skinny neck around to look back at him. Though it had no eyes, Nero could feel its gaze on him. His first thought was to shoot it, attack it in some way, but his body wouldn't move. He grit his teeth and tried to lift his arms, move his legs, but after being spotted by the Collector, it was as if he were paralyzed. Just like before, his devil bringer went dull, the light snuffing itself out like it was affected by the same inability to move as the rest of him. Nero growled as the yellow skinned demon waddled in its awkward way towards him, lifting one of its disgustingly long fingers with the extra knuckles to point at him. Its mouth slowly stretched open and the younger man had the sudden impression that it had been waiting for him.

Once it got close enough to reach out and touch, however, the Collector hesitated, sniffing at the air before it hissed, both its hands grabbing at Nero's face and instantly the touch seared his skin. Nero cried out in shock at the unexpected pain, but the burn woke his brain and he managed to lift a hand and shove the demon away from him. He reached for Blue Rose, but the second he lifted the revolver to fire, the Collector disappeared in a sharp gust of wind that carried the unmistakable stench of brimstone.

Nero blinked rapidly at the dust that stung his eyes, his face still burning. He tried to take a step and found his feet were working again. Instantly he sprinted the rest of the way to the doors of Devil May Cry, yanking open the door.

His body froze for the second time as he took in the scene. The couch was overturned again. Lady was kneeling in the middle of the floor, and in her arms was a limp, unconscious Dante. Nero's heart climbed up into his throat as he took a step forward, only to duck out of the way as Lady instinctively shot at what she probably thought was the Collector coming back for more.

"Lady wait! It's me!" he said quickly, trying to avert any further attempt to blow his head off.

The human huntress slowly lowered her still smoking firearm before dropping it to the floor in favor of trying to rouse Dante. "Wake up already, you bastard!" She snapped, shaking Dante as best she could. But he didn't seem to be responding at all.

Nero dropped the bag he'd somehow managed to keep a hold of and ran over to them, dropping to his knees and leaning in to make sure Dante was at least breathing. He was, but it was shallow. "What happened?" He asked, his heart still forming a brutal knot in his throat and making it hard to breathe. His hands shook as he suddenly yanked the unconscious man from Lady's arms.

Lady was taken aback by the possessive snatch Nero made, but slowly let her empty arms fall down to her sides. "I was coming this way to check up on you guys when I spotted the demon. You described what it looked like, but I hadn't seen a glimpse of it anywhere until just now. It just walked right in like it was invited. I ran to catch up but by the time I got in here, it was all over him." She looked down at Dante's pale face when the older man groaned and instinctively turned his face into Nero's chest; she roughly rubbed her gloved palm into her eye and Nero realized she was fighting hard to not show she was crying. "I shot at it, but it just disappeared. I thought it killed him."

It hadn't, thankfully, but Nero suspected that it had come back to finish collecting what was left of Dante's soul. Either that or whoever summoned it wanted Dante completely dead.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Neeeext

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** To all the people who read!

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><p>"For the thousandth time, I'm <em>fine.<em>" Dante grumbled as he tried in vain to eat. It was ridiculously hard to eat food you couldn't see. He used his free hand as best he could to locate where the food was before attempting to jab it with the utensil clutched in his other hand, but really, unless he shoved his fingers into it, he was only guessing where his dinner was at.

Apparently he had been attacked a second time by the Collector earlier that afternoon, not that he remembered the event. But Lady and Nero had yet to quit bugging the shit out of him about it. Dante didn't mind Nero's fussing so much, but Lady….jesus, who knew she could be such a mother hen? The two of them were always jumping up to help him whenever he stood up, constantly asking him if he needed anything or if he was feeling alright. They seemed convinced he was on the verge of death. He'd felt better, but honestly Dante knew he was just fine. Sure his headache after waking up was lingering and just getting worse and he was still plagued by a constant exhaustion that seemed increased, but that didn't mean he was knocking on Death's door.

"Are you sure?" Lady pressed. "Knowing you, you could be about to die and you'd still say you were fine."

"God, _yes_. I'm positive I feel fine and if you ask me again I'll find a way to hurt you." Dante said irritably. Most of him was just flat out frustrated with the whole situation, but deep down there was a part of him that was rather touched by how much Lady apparently cared. He sometimes forgot through all their bullshitting that she did have a heart under all her sociopathic, gun-toting tendencies.

Nero leaned back in his seat on the other end of the couch, watching Lady and Dante get drawn into another argument. Like most of their verbal spars, there wasn't any real heat behind their words. He managed to keep his mouth shut about how Dante was now ignoring his food in favor of annoying Lady; he'd already embarrassed himself enough by fussing. It wasn't like he could help it, really. After coming back to find Dante attacked a second time, again because Nero hadn't been there to defend him, the younger man was nearly consumed by his guilt.

He was gratefully distracted by Lady huffing out a disgusted breath, tuning himself back into their conversation.

"That's a fine way to treat a friend. And after I saved your sorry ass, too." She said, arms crossed as she turned her face away. It would've been a great display of dismissal…if Dante were able to actually see it. Instead the older devil hunter just laughed at her.

"I didn't need saving, Lady. I'm already as good as dead as I am, you didn't stop anything."

His off the wall comment made both Nero and Lady go tense, the two sharing a worried look before both sets of eyes were back on Dante who decided now was as good a time as any to poke at his food. In reality, he'd barely eaten any of it.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lady demanded, voicing what both she and Nero were thinking.

Dante heaved an exasperated sigh. "Look at me, babe. I can't see, I can't fight, I can barely even eat, how can I not be convinced this trend will eventually kill me? And honestly, if the Collector wanted me dead, it would've just killed me, not sucked out the last of my energy and make me miserable. So really, you didn't do anything to save me."

The look on Lady's face probably would've stopped Dante's little speech halfway through, but since he couldn't see it, only Nero took note of how her face flushed and her eyes grew glossy. The devil huntress caught herself before anymore tears could fall, though. She roughly rubbed her face before snapping, "Then go ahead and just stay here and die, see if I care, you ungrateful, undeserving asshole!" she didn't wait for a reply, just stormed out the doors. Nero listened to her bike roar off down the street and sighed.

"That was uncalled for, Dante," He said quietly. "She's really worried about you." _We all are._

"It's better if she's mad at me," Dante replied, giving up on eating as he rubbed his aching eyes. For being useless, they certainly hurt all the time. "Gives her something else to focus on other than feeling sad or guilty. Feeling that way is only going to make her distracted and get her in trouble; or worse, dead. If she's angry, she'll keep some distance and not put herself in danger to protect me."

Nero felt dumbstruck as he was hit with a sudden realization. He wasn't sure how he'd missed it before, but he was only now seeing just how…caring Dante actually was. Without all the bluster, Dante was actually kind. He didn't want anyone to be hurt or to die for him, and Nero had to wonder if Dante had ever purposefully made him angry – just like he did with Lady – to protect him. It was strange to sit next to someone you thought you knew and then in the next moment realize that you didn't know them at all. Maybe there was some small benefit to Dante losing his soul, and with it all his demonic powers. Without that devil side posturing on the forefront, Nero could more easily see the real man underneath.

"You're a pretty complicated person, Dante." Nero said at length, a small amount of affection in his voice as he looked down at his hands resting in his lap. He'd been struggling to keep them to himself since Dante woke up, but it was a constant battle. _For all my talk of hating him and wanting to get away from him and never come back, I'm surprisingly clingy._ Nero thought with a scoff.

He was caught up in his own thoughts, so he was justified in jumping slightly when he realized that Dante had moved across the couch to lean in close to him. Those blind eyes were unnerving to look at up close. Instantly guilt tried to claw its way into his mind, but it was washed away by a wave of surprise when Dante's hand suddenly brushed against his face, feeling along his jaw line before gripping his chin.

"W-what?" did he just stutter?

"Stop blaming yourself." Dante said, hesitantly leaning in closer. Nero was glad he went slowly; otherwise they probably would've head butted with how close they were. "Whoever summoned that Collector and sent it after me is who's to blame, not you."

"I'm not blaming myself," Nero defended out of reflex, wondering what had spawned this conversation.

The look on Dante's face was actually kind of frightening as he stared Nero down intensely. "The hell you aren't, Nero. I don't have to be able to see to know that. Just like I don't have to see you to know you're only being nice to me because you feel bad, so knock it off. I don't need your pity-driven affection."

Nero had no idea where the words came from, but they fell past his lips without his consent. "Then what _do _you want from me?"

"What are you willing to give me?" Dante countered without pause.

Something about the way Dante said that made a sharp ache take up shop in Nero's chest. He shook his head slightly, considering the merits of pulling away. As if he could read his mind, Dante's fingers tightened on his chin, holding him in place. "…I don't know." He finally answered. _I don't know if there's even anything I could give you._ He wasn't going to let Dante that close again. He couldn't. They'd been down that road once before and it only led to a dead end. Besides, they were finally, after nearly a year, able to be in the same room together without wanting to tear out each other's throats. He wasn't going to trade that in by making another mistake.

Dante said nothing as he listened to Nero's shaken breaths, the puffs of warm air brushing over his face from their close proximity. He didn't have that strong of a hold on Nero, and if the kid wanted to get away, he certainly could. The fact that he hadn't already shoved Dante away and took off had to be a good sign, right? They'd been making steady progress on learning to tolerate each other again after he'd been blinded, and running on the impression that Dante couldn't see him, Nero was opening up and giving away more of himself than the younger man probably realized. Driven, he leaned in closer, lips meeting warm skin.

He was both surprised and strangely elated to hear Nero actually laughing at him. The sound was low and a bit rough, like the kid hadn't made that sound in a while and in truth he probably hadn't. "What?"

"You missed, moron." Nero replied, voice still full of humor. Dante blinked when he felt rough skin and warm scales touch his cheeks as Nero's hands cupped his face. "These are my lips,"

They certainly were. Dante remembered that mouth with intimate, excruciating detail even after all their time apart. Full, warm lips pressed against his own gently, almost tentatively, but they lingered instead of pulling away quickly. Dante tilted his head and pressed in closer, tongue teasing Nero's bottom lip before slipping past into the moist cavern beyond. He felt a small thrill of excitement but mostly tenderness at finally getting a real kiss from Nero. Before the Collector first showed up, that hadn't been kissing; they'd still been fighting, even when they were fucking. This was much more satisfying. It almost felt like they had agreed to a silent truce to end their senseless fighting for good.

Dante broke the kiss for a moment, surprised that he actually needed to catch his breath after such a short time until he realized that his heart was beating so fast he could hardly breathe at all, even with his mouth free. "Nero…"

"Mm?" his entire body stiffened at that soft, breathy response. He recognized it, even now able to picture the absent, lazy smile that would be curling Nero's mouth, fiery azure eyes tamed to a deep, placid blue, pale skin flushed a soft pink. It was a sound Nero had made often when he first woke in the morning. A sound that usually prompted Dante to kiss him senseless…and then usually ended with them having sex before getting ready for the day; mostly because Dante couldn't help himself.

He leaned in to close the small gap he'd created between them, mouth finding the corner of Nero's lips and plenty able to navigate from there. Nero's tongue was the one to initiate the second round of heated dueling, their lips fusing together as their tongues tangled. It was slow and almost gentle, yet so passionate that the air around them was already growing heated and thick.

Nero was lost the second Dante tried to kiss him that first time and ended up pressing his lips just under his eye. At first it had been funny, a chance to make fun of the older man, but instead of taunting words, suggestive ones came out instead and his hands pulled Dante in of their own volition. He wouldn't lie; a part of him had been dying a little every day as it waited for them to be intimate like this again. His first thought wasn't even of sex, but more he just wanted to get closer to Dante.

He would've happily let himself be swept away, but a small kernel of reason started to grow in his brain until he finally had the sense to push Dante back. "Wait, stop," he panted. "I'm not doing this with you again."

Dante was a bit dazed and confused with the kiss suddenly broken off and Nero going cold. "Doing what?"

"Just the fact that you can't see what's obviously going on here proves that we shouldn't go down that road again." They were just repeating the same cycle. Except this time he knew it was going to hurt even more when they started to fight again because they were actually getting along.

"What's supposed to be so obvious, Nero?" Dante asked, exasperated and maybe…just a little bit angry. "The fact that the relationship you want, you're convinced is supposed to be romantic? Sweet kisses followed by confessions and then making love before living happily ever after?" he knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't seem to change his tone. "All of that is fantasy. Reality is dirty, harsh and unsatisfying. You take what little happiness you can find, milk it for what it's worth, and try not to get too attached so the mourning you go through when it's gone doesn't destroy you."

Nero was taken aback at that cynical view. If that was how Dante really thought about relationships, then it certainly explained why there had always been the distance of just sex between them. "Since when do you think that?"

"Since the day you ruined the life I spent years building for myself to not let anyone close enough to hurt me again by walking into it."

The younger man drew away at that, trying to put a little bit of distance between them, but Dante was crowding him against the couch. "Well if I made your life so damn shitty, then maybe I really should leave and never come back, you being blind or not."

"Damn it, Nero, can't you get it through your thick skull that I can't just say the sappy words you want to hear easily?"

Nero stiffened at that, looking at Dante in shock. "You…" so what, Dante had actually felt more than physical attraction towards him all this time and just didn't _say_ anything because it was too _hard?_ "You can't? But you're always spouting crap like that at everyone else."

"I can't say it easily when I actually mean it." Dante said seriously.

_Shit,_ Nero thought as he stared back at Dante's face still hovering only a few inches above his own. _Now I'm never going to be able to leave you, you bastard._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **So a shout out to all of you who reviewed last chapter (I worked hard to reply to you all!): **L.K. Heinrich, Sasha Lockhaven, Greyfaerie, deathnotelover12, silent33, Fiqas, and HikariNo Tenshi-San**. Oh, am I forgetting some names?…hmm…I wonder…who could those people be…oh of course! All my regulars, how could I forget you lovely people? (I kid, I kid, of course I remembered you guys). **bitbyboth, SirenaLoreley, Valenwind, and Blood of Dusk. **

That's a total of 11 reviews for one chapter. I haven't bothered to go count in my other stories, but I think that ranks up there with the most I've gotten for a single chapter (and only in the span of about two and a half days). Kudos readers!

_**Now for something relevant to the current chapter!**_ I apologize for the abrupt ending on this one. I couldn't think of a way to seque into the next chapter, so it kinda cuts off. I'd also like to point and laugh at those of you who thought I was going to just deteriorate my story's current integrity and have them just jumping into bed.

**Disclaimer: **Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** I already mentioned all your names, lol!

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><p>When Nero came downstairs the next morning, he'd admit to being in higher spirits, but he wasn't quite ready to just nosedive into the 'could bes' and 'maybes' that were looming ahead for him and Dante. A roundabout, indirect confession wasn't exactly what Nero had been going for. But honestly, he hadn't been going for <em>anything<em> other than not committing murder to happen between them, so this was a plus. But there was still the issue of getting Dante's soul back from the Collector, if that was even possible, hanging over them like a heavy pall. Nero had to wonder where Trish was with her research. Maybe he should call her today.

He made it to the bottom stair before he paused in surprise. Dante was apparently awake. And the older man was hard at work, somehow managing to disassemble both of his pistols, the parts laying in neat rows across the desk.

"What are you up to now, old man?" Nero asked as he took a few steps further into the office, arms crossed.

Dante blinked and lifted his head from where he'd had it bent over his hands, though he couldn't see what he was doing. The man was clearly losing his mind. He was sitting behind his desk in a new chair Nero had brought in at some point during the past week after the last one was broken, shirtless, and he was trying to blindly clean Ebony and Ivory as if he were actually going to _use_ them; and that wide grin on the devil hunter's face was just plain unnerving.

"What does it look like?" Dante replied as he went back to his task. "I was up early and decided to clean my guns because you wouldn't sleep with me last night."

"And where you got the impression I was going to just because we had a talk is beyond me."

"I still stand by my swearing to not do anything. I meant sleep in the literal sense."

"Sure you did," Nero's frown deepened as he walked over to the desk. "How the hell are you doing that when you can't see?"

"Memory," he grunted in answer almost distractedly. "I could do this in my sleep. Just because I can't see the pieces doesn't mean I can't feel them. I customized these babies myself, I think I know how to put them together and take them apart by now."

Nero mulled that over as he looked over the orderly lineup of parts. It was clear Dante had a system when it came to cleaning and caring for his weapons. He'd never bothered to really stop and notice before. Dante was rather artistic in his own flashy, flamboyant way of fighting and the weapons he used, some he modified himself, to achieve that showy style; just another realization to add to the growing pile.

As tempting as Dante's offer last night had been, it seemed best to go slow with each other this time. Nero knew they weren't completely over whatever had gone wrong a year ago, but learning more about each other and starting at the beginning could get them there. Or maybe he was just starting to use optimism, which would be a first. Either way, the future looked promising for once…assuming they could get this Collector business sorted out.

"Have you heard back from Trish yet?" Nero asked as he headed towards the kitchen. He was a bit peckish and had to wonder if Dante chose to skip another meal simply because it was too hard to eat when he couldn't see. _He's like a giant damn baby._

"No, but then I wouldn't be reassured if she called back with an instant solution. Complicated things like these take time to figure out, if they can be solved at all." Dante said as he finished assembling Ivory. At least, he was pretty sure it was Ivory; the fact that he was always holding it automatically with his right hand and the feel of the rounded trigger guard kind of gave it away. "By the way, if you're in the kitchen…"

"No, Dante. I'm tired of heating up food you refuse to eat. When you're actually interested in eating and not just wanting to annoy me, then I'll think about it." Nero replied. Dante could hear the exasperation in the younger man's tone and couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew without having to see that, despite his words, Nero was going to bring him something to eat anyway. The kid was kind of a pushover like that.

Of course, he didn't say anything like that aloud. Instead he set aside a newly cleaned and reassembled Ivory and carefully felt over the pieces of Ebony laid out on the other side of his desk. He was actually surprised with himself. He'd really just been bored and desperate to not be left out of the fight that would inevitably come to get back his soul. Cleaning the twin pistols had been a test of sorts, to see just how much being blind impaired him, but it didn't seem to slow him down with his guns at all. For years he'd handled them, lost them, found them, fixed them, cleaned them, and his hands just seemed to know what to do without him having to think about it. It had given him a strange sense of hope that he was clinging to. While Ebony and Ivory were a bit heavier than he remembered them being – he'd never noticed they carried any weight at all before – he could handle them. Aiming and actually hitting an enemy was a whole different story, but for now he was content to learn he could at least take care of his weapons without needing to see them.

Next on his list was Rebellion…if he could find the damn thing. Since Nero had been the one to reassemble the office, the layout was off; though he was pretty sure his favorite sword was still mounted on the wall somewhere. Dante's memory could only serve him so far in an altered environment. He didn't blame Nero of course; it wasn't the kid's fault that some outside force decided it wanted Dante blind right after they made a giant mess.

Dante kept himself busy putting Ebony back together, his fingers hesitating only because he was finding it curious how feeling the shape of each piece painted a clear picture in his mind of what it was and where it went. He also had to wonder how effective they would be when he wasn't channeling any demonic power through them. Lady didn't seem to have any trouble killing demons with regular handguns, but who knew? With his luck his babies would be useless.

The whole time he finished up with his pistols, he could hear Nero moving around in the kitchen nearby, the young knight occasionally cursing as something fell. For being such an adept fighter, Nero was surprisingly clumsy sometimes. Dante hadn't really noticed before, but now that he was seeing the world through sound these days, he couldn't help but. Nero sometimes tripped over his own feet when he was walking through the office, or he'd drop something because he was focused on something else. Usually his reflexes were fast enough to keep him from falling or to catch whatever he dropped so it didn't break, but not always.

It was actually kind of cute and Dante wanted his sight back that much more so he could see the look on Nero's face whenever he stumbled now that he noticed that clumsy quirk. He would bet that it was priceless.

Once Ebony was assembled and set aside, Dante pushed up to his feet, rolling his stiff shoulders. It'd never bothered him to stoop over his desk for extended amounts of time before, but then he supposed a lot of his lack of caring stemmed from the reliance on his demonic side. It was odd how he spent most of his young life refusing to acknowledge it and then eventually getting comfortable with it, only to somehow end up relying so heavily on it every day. Thinking about that, Dante reached a hand out to stop him from running into the wall, running his palm over the worn surface. As expected, the mount he kept his sword on wasn't in its usual place. He paused, though, when he felt something cold and sharp biting into the back of his wrist only a foot or so away from where he remembered keeping his favorite weapon. As carefully as he could manage, he took his hand back and brushed his fingers over the metallic surface, finding a broad blade. Dante felt a smirk creeping onto his face as he trailed his hand up the blade and felt the achingly familiar skull design on his darling Rebellion.

He reached up a bit higher to grip the hilt, nothing but satisfaction in the way his fingers curled around the worn grip. If he were to lose everything in a fire and was allowed to save just one item, it would be his sword.

No…wait, did Nero count as an item? It seemed kind of a bastard thing to do to choose a sword that really couldn't be hurt by a mere fire, over someone he cared about. But then, Nero was a person, not an item. In the event of a fire, surely the kid would get out of harm's way under his own power.

That settled it. If there were a fire, Dante would save his coat. All his devil arms would be fine if they were caught in a fire and Ebony and Ivory had the strange habit of always surviving, no matter what happened to them or where they were left.

Chuckling at himself, Dante pulled Rebellion down off the mount…and nearly had his shoulder torn out of the socket as the heavy blade dropped to the floor as if it suddenly weighed two tons. At first he was nearly deafened by the clatter of Rebellion hitting the floor as dead weight after he let go to save his arm; somehow he'd been lucky enough to miss losing a foot, but he didn't get much of a chance to think about that close call before the sound of quick footsteps came towards him.

"What happened?" Nero demanded. He tried to sound irritated, but the worry was evident in his voice regardless. Dante was just standing there like nothing was amiss, when in reality he could've been flattened by his own weapon.

"Apparently I'm not the only one out of shape." Dante answered with a faint grin as he bent over slowly, feeling around before grabbing Rebellion's hilt again. "Seems my sword gained weight while I've been laid up."

Nero let out an exasperated sigh to cover his relief that Dante hadn't been hurt. "It didn't get fat, you idiot, that thing is just heavy."

Dante frowned at the claim. "It is not." He denied even as he struggled to lift the massive blade up. It took effort just to stand Rebellion upright against the wall. Much like his guns, Dante had never noticed the sword's weight. He'd easily wielded it before, sometimes even one-handed; just another example of how much he'd taken his now missing demonic strength for granted.

Shaking his head, Nero stepped forward to pick up Rebellion and place it back on its mount on the wall. "What are you doing even trying to pick it up?"

"I plan on using it, of course." Dante blithely replied, crossing his arms as he listened to Nero reverse all his hard work and put Rebellion away.

"Oh really? Last I checked you have trouble finding the bathroom still, Dante. How exactly did you plan on using _any_ weapon?"

"You didn't really believe I was going to sit out the big fight when you guys find the Collector and its Master did you?" Dante purposefully sounded offended, even though he knew that was exactly what Nero thought.

Nero scowled at Dante's reply. He was tempted to argue, but he balked at having a fight over something so stupid and obvious when they were finally just managing to get along. He looked towards the doors when they swung open and found his problem was solved. "Why don't you take it up with Lady, then?"

"Take what up with me?" Lady demanded as she came into the office, sliding Kalina Ann off her shoulder and resting the large rocket launcher against her side.

Dante's lofty expression fell at the sound of her voice. _Shit._ There was no way he was going to be able to convince Lady that him joining in the fight while still blinded was a good idea.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I don't have a whole lot to say for once...Attack of the plot! The character development will come back once I get this next part of the plot out of the way. And don't worry, all the questions this chapter will inevitably bring up will be answered in the next one. I have a plan! (for once).

Also...I replayed DMC4 for the first time in a while and I had never bothered to upgrade Dante's fighting styles past level 2. So when I had enough to get him full three levels for all his fighting styles, I was like...SURPRISED that he kicked more ass. You are all free to laugh at me xD

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom

**Dedications:** I see some of those new names came back to review for last chapter. D'ohoho, you guys. I'm so happy to hear from you a second time! Thank you so much for reviewing and as always, this chapter and story are for my readers!

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><p>Lady stared pointedly at Dante who was now sitting sullenly behind his desk. Nero went back into the kitchen to try and hide the fact that he was feeling smug over successfully averting what seemed to be an unavoidable argument. Now he wasn't the bad guy; Lady was.<p>

Still frowning in disapproval though that had no effect considering Dante couldn't even see the expression, Lady crossed her arms and stood before the desk and the stubborn devil hunter seated on the other side. "Alright," she began, "What is this crap about saying you're going to fight with us?"

"It's my soul, Lady." Dante said as he leaned back in his chair, absently rubbing his fingertips together as he stared into the blackness in front of him. "Why shouldn't I fight for it?"

"Because you're blind, you idiot." She said bluntly.

"So what? I deserve to be included."

"You _are_ included." Lady was starting to sound exasperated with him, but Dante could care less. He wasn't going to let anyone tell him he couldn't fight. He'd been useless enough. When they found the Collector's master, he was going to be part of whatever it took to get his soul and demonic powers back.

He sighed and shook his head. "Lady, it's been after me. It was my soul it took. It's my responsibility to get it back, not yours."

"That might be a valid argument." She conceded, "If not for the fact that you would be about as effective in a fight as a wet paper bag."

Nero frowned from where he was shamelessly eavesdropping in the kitchen. He'd still rather Lady deal with Dante's stubborn insistence to fight than it having to be him, but she could try to be a bit less….Lady-like about her approach. Dante was already dealing with a lot of ego blows. The older man's pride was constantly taking hits from having to rely on someone else just to eat and get around. It'd been how long since this all started? A week and a half? In all that time, Dante had not once left the Devil May Cry. The once proud and powerful devil slayer was now relegated to sleeping through the endless days for lack of anything else he could do. Nero understood the drive to want to be useful. He could see where Dante was coming from with all this, but that still didn't change the fact that Lady was right. Dante would be more detrimental to a fight than advantageous.

He tuned back into the conversation when he heard Lady slap her hands against the desk.

"That's what you have us for, Dante. We're helping you through this. We'll help you get back all you lost." Lady said sharply. "And even if by some miracle we let you be a part of the fight, _you_ would end up being our focus, not the fight itself. I or Nero or Trish could end up getting hurt or even killed worrying about you."

Dante's mouth, that had been open and about to argue further, slowly closed at Lady's point. She was right. If he did convince them to let him out on the battlefield, they would be watching out for him, not themselves. The one thing Dante could not stand was for someone he cared about to be hurt because of him. First and foremost, Trish, Lady and Nero were his friends, his partners. They were willing to stand by him even though he was useless to them now, put their lives on the line for him and…Dante couldn't stand the fact that he couldn't return the favor.

Lady let out a slow breath and stood up straight, hands still resting on the edge of the desk. "Now, if you're still going to keep on insisting to join us, then I'm afraid I'm just going to have to break both your legs and leave your sorry ass behind and bleeding." She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Dante to try and keep arguing, but he was looking awfully reserved now. "Good. Now that we got _that_ out of the way, I can finally tell you what I came here to tell you."

Dante finally perked up at those words. "Did you find the Collector or whoever summoned it?" he asked hopefully.

So hopefully, in fact, that Lady actually felt bad that wasn't the reason she was here. "No." she grudgingly admitted, but was quick to add, "I actually came to deliver a message from Trish."

"So she found something?"

Lady ignored Dante's question and looked towards the kitchen. "Nero, get in here."

Nero hated being told what to do, but he'd been listening in and was curious. He ducked out of the kitchen, walking towards them and quietly placing a frozen dinner he had heated while he was in there before Dante, grabbing the elder man's hand and placing it on the edge of the little plastic tray holding the food so he would know where it was. It was a sandwich this time, so he wouldn't have to struggle with any utensils. "What?" he huffed as he leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms.

The devil huntress tilted her head at the sight. Nero seemed to be taking care of Dante almost out of reflex, the movements distracted and automatic. Dante just went with it too, smiling faintly as he felt for the sandwich before lifting it up to his mouth, waiting for it to bump into his lips before he bothered to open them to take a bite.

"Trish's message is for you." Lady finally managed to get out as she shook off the strange image of the two of them not only getting along but being so domestic.

"Me? Why me?" Nero asked, looking up from watching Dante eat in utter surprise. "Isn't it about the Collector? She said she was going to research about that. Shouldn't her message be for Dante?"

"She expressly said you and only you when she called me." Lady clarified, shrugging. "She said that she needs you to come to where she's at and left directions to the moldy library she was digging through under an abandoned church outside the city."

"But…" Why him? Nero didn't get it.

Dante looked up from his half eaten lunch and frowned towards where Lady's voice was coming from. "Why didn't she just call here and talk to Nero herself?" he wasn't even going to touch the question of why Trish wanted to speak to Nero about whatever she'd found. He was getting this bad feeling that whatever she had to say, it couldn't be good. Or maybe he was just dreading the thought of Nero leaving him.

Snorting, Lady slapped a hand on the desk again. "You know what it's like trying to get information out of her when she doesn't want to give it. I wasn't about to try with how cryptic she was being. I'm just the messenger in this. So here, Nero," she held out a piece of folded paper that she'd pulled out of her pocket. "Here are the directions to Trish. I'll stay here and babysit while you're gone."

"Hey!" Dante broke in, sounding offended.

Nero hesitated to take the paper. He was caught between being so painfully curious to learn what Trish had to say that was so important she would only tell him, and not wanting to leave Dante. Even with Lady there to watch out for him, Nero didn't like the idea of not being here should something go wrong. It wasn't a matter of trust. He trusted Lady to not let Dante starve or try to wander out of the office like the older man was starting to do, or even to try and use any of his weapons again. It was more personal issues that he was struggling with. They had a tenuous truce going on. If he were to leave for however long it would take to get to Trish and back, would that reverse all of the progress they'd finally started to make? He wasn't sure he wanted to risk it.

Even with all those thoughts swimming in his head, Nero reached out to take the paper and opened it slowly, reading over the directions. It was worse than he thought. Trish wasn't even in the city. Not even close. It was going to take him at least a day to get there, and that would be if he didn't run into trouble along the way. Trish not coming here to tell them what she'd found herself suggested she'd run into some herself.

"I guess I'd better get going." He said, reluctantly standing from where he'd leaned against the desk, intending to go get ready.

He was stopped by a warm hand suddenly grappling almost desperately around the desk before gripping his own hard. Nero stopped, holding his breath as he looked down to see Dante was squeezing his hand in a brutal hold. It tugged at his heart to see the older man worried about him leaving as well. Was Dante just as scared of being left alone as Nero was of leaving him?

Before he could say anything or even fully react, Dante closed his eyes and slowly let out his own held breath, taking his hand away and letting it fall into his lap. "Take the car." Was all he said before feeling around carefully for what was left of his sandwich, bringing it up to take another small bite. He wasn't very hungry anymore, but he had to occupy his mouth somehow. Otherwise he'd start saying a bunch of whiny bullshit about not wanting Nero to leave him. His pride had suffered enough thanks to his blindness. He wasn't going to start clinging.

Nero was quiet for a moment, absently rubbing his palm that Dante had clung to. For a second there, he'd actually felt like he was worth something to the other man. Sighing, he dropped his hands and resigned himself to the loss of that fleeting feeling. "Alright." Was all he said in reply.

Lady watched as Nero silently collected his sword and revolver, fishing around before taking Dante's keys and heading towards the door. There were no 'take cares' or 'be carefuls' exchanged between the two men. She found it odd that one second they could be so close and the next have so much distance between them, they might as well be strangers. Even after Nero quietly closed the door behind him after he left, Dante didn't look up or say anything, but he'd stopped pretending to eat, instead staring at nothing.

"Okay," She said suddenly, just to break the silence, rubbing her hands together as she looked around the nearly empty office. "Let's see…I could use a drink, how about you?"

"My bar is trashed." Dante said flatly.

"Well no duh, but you still have beer in the fridge right?"

"No."

Lady scowled at how uncooperative Dante was being. "Then we'll just have to go buy some. Get dressed."

Dante blinked and lifted his head at that pronouncement. He hadn't left the office since he'd been blinded. A chance to get out and break his cabin fever should've been welcome, but instead all he wanted to do was go upstairs and curl up in his bed to be miserable. It was because of that thought alone that he stood up, heading for the stairs.

"Give me a few minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

_Futs you guys, this chapter exceeded 3,000 words_

**A/N:** Ladies and any gentlemen I may have among my readers, I humbly present to you all the next eagerly awaited chapter of **Over and Over** for your reading pleasure. Seriously though, WOW. I...think this chapter only worsened the thirst for answers rather than clarified the questions brought up last chapter. Please forgive me on that. I kind of fell out of sync while trying to figure out exactly what to put in this chapter and how exactly I wanted it to play out. Honestly my mind has been centered on the next two chapters after this one, so it was kind of hard to backtrack. Hopefully I did an alright job, though. I put in lots of descriptive (I hope) action to make up for it!

All I wish for is that this chapter lives up to all the expectations you guys have built around this story. To date, it's my proudest accomplishment and I want you guys to be enjoying it as much as I do!

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications:** All of you who have been so patiently awaiting this next installment. I hope you enjoy it. ...ENJOY IT DAMN IT!

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><p>"Dante! What the hell are you doing? Get over here!" Lady shouted as she grabbed at the wandering man's arm to yank him back up onto the curb, narrowly avoiding being struck by an oncoming car. She took a moment to catch her breath, heart still racing at the close call. Of course, Dante was standing there beside her, seeming to be completely unaffected by the incident.<p>

"Ow. I think you pulled my arm out of the socket." He said rather indifferently, rolling his shoulder.

"You idiot!" Lady snapped, slapping Dante upside the head and ignoring his small wince at being struck. "You could've been killed. Didn't you see—'' she cut herself off, but Dante still looked towards her, not at her, blind eyes half-lidded.

"See the car? No, actually, I didn't. I didn't even realize I was in the damn street."

Lady sighed and shook her head. She didn't mean to drag up the whole blindness issue. It wasn't like Dante wasn't already aware of it every waking moment. But she was starting to see why Nero had kept Dante at the office all this time. It would be dangerous for him to wander off alone, and guiding him would just be difficult because the man never _listened_. He may have lost his soul and his sight, but Dante was still Dante; namely, a stubborn jackass.

"Just…here," she took Dante's hand and placed it on her shoulder. "Stay behind me and try not to trip or anything. I don't really want all your deadweight crushing me."

"You say that like I'm fat." Dante muttered, fingers gripping Lady's jacket as she started to lead them down the street, slowly at first. He couldn't see, but the city sounded and smelled the same. Car exhaust, the shuffling of countless feet on the pavement, the squeak of old brakes on a nearby car; all of it was familiar. It was both relaxing and overwhelming to be back in the real world after being secluded for so long. It was just as disorienting to be seeing his home through his other four senses rather than by sight alone like he'd done for years.

Still, as they continued to walk, he found his dark mood lifting; if even just a little bit. He wouldn't say it aloud, but he was grateful that Lady had trouble standing idle. Her insistence to get out and about, even with as flimsy an excuse as going to buy beer, was something to focus on instead of sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

As much of a pain as she was, Dante had never been happier that Lady seemed determined to keep her claws hooked firmly into him.

"Hey, what the hell are you smirking about back there?" Lady asked suspiciously.

"Just the fact that I could easily pretend to trip and you'd be powerless to stop me from sneaking a grope." Dante said easily, patting her stiffening shoulder under his palm.

"I dare you to try it, smartass." She muttered.

-o-o-o-

Whoever said getting there was half the fun was so full of crap. Nero heaved another sigh as he shifted in his seat, staring down the road stretching out before him. He didn't particularly care for long car trips; especially when he had to take them alone. It was boring and uncomfortable to sit by yourself for so long. At least while he'd been driving through Capulet it had been interesting scenery. Now that he was leaving the city behind however, there wasn't much to look at beyond a few houses and now not even that. Scenic drives might appeal to most people, but the effect was lost on Nero. He supposed he could lament about his worries and doubts that still lingered after leaving Dante behind, but the young man didn't really want to waste the energy. The more he thought about it, the worse it was going to make him feel.

He smiled humorlessly at that last thought. _I have to wonder if that's how Dante deals with everything in his life…just don't think about it and it isn't a problem._

Maybe he should start adopting the same philosophy.

Nero didn't measure the passage of time, so he wasn't sure how long he'd been driving. All he could tell was that the sun was beginning its decent on the horizon as he passed by an average sized town and took a side road paved in dirt. Trees lined either side of the dirt lane as he slowed his speed, wondering why it had to be such clichéd scenery. He was plagued by questions a cryptic ally had the answers to, forced to seek her out in this secluded, abandoned church perched atop an overgrown hill. Nero almost scoffed when he caught sight of the old, crowded cemetery surrounding said church that his little note filled with directions had led him to.

Not bothering to park the car to the side of the road, Nero pulled right up to the half open, rusted gate towering before the cemetery and killed the engine. For a moment he just sat in Dante's car and stared. The sun had continued to steadily dip lower in the sky, casting lengthening shadows of the crumbling headstones and statues of angels across the overgrown grass. The orange leeching into the sky highlighted the outline of the old church, its spires like skeleton hands reaching desperately into the sky for salvation. The stained glass window was still intact, but without the light of the sun, it was colorless and dull.

"I feel like I'm trapped in some kind of overly-dramatic movie or something," Nero muttered as he finally left the car, slamming the door shut before pulling Red Queen out of the passenger seat and sliding the blade onto his back. The weight was comfortable, familiar, and it helped to center him where he couldn't seem to do it himself. Letting out a small sigh, the young hunter went up to the gate and slipped through the gap. His boots crunched over a few sticks and fallen leaves that were hidden in the tall weeds that had overtaken the graves. Moss and vines were twining themselves around every piece of man-made stone that they could reach, reclaiming the area that had once been cleared of the vegetation.

Nero didn't get much more than a couple of feet into the graveyard before his right arm suddenly flared to life. The blue glow was bright and eye-catching in the shadow of dusk, illuminating the space around him even as his whole arm from his shoulder to the tips of his talons burned. Not only were there demons nearby, but there were either hundreds of them or a couple of really powerful ones, judging by the energy they were giving off. He looked up at the sound of a hiss, eyes widening slightly as he realized the reason Trish hadn't left the church and come to them.

There were dozens upon dozens of those same demons he and Dante had fought in the abandoned apartment building almost two weeks ago; right before the older man had been blinded. Their spider-like limbs were scrambling and skittering across the stone walls of the church, their pink skin looking red in the waning light. Within moments he was surrounded as they leapt up out of the grass, as if they'd been crouching there and waiting for him to come through the gates. Instinctively, Nero reached for the handle of his sword and revved it up twice before swinging the heavy blade down. The force of the impact seemed to stun the demons for a few seconds before they started tearing their needle-thin nails into the ground, kicking up blades of grass and dirt as they recklessly threw themselves towards him. Their breaths came heavy and fast, so reminiscent of a human it nearly made Nero hesitate to hit them.

Readjusting his grip, he swung Red Queen in an arc before him, knocking back one of the five that had been barreling towards him. The others leapt away, either up into the air or rolling into the grass and disappearing. All Nero could think of was how much difficulty he and Dante had while fighting less than a dozen of these things. Now he was facing down a legion of them alone. Still…Trish was somewhere below that church. And she had answers he would kill to learn under any circumstance.

"If I have to kill you lively bastards to find a way to help Dante," Nero growled as he flexed the fingers of his devil bringer, "Then let's roll!"

At least ten of the demons had gotten close enough to lunge at him and Nero lifted Red Queen just in time to knock away one, the blade catching its middle and flinging it several feet away. He turned to block the incoming claws of a second demon with his right arm, twisting to the side as a third sailed just inches above his head. A third demon he held at bay with his sword snapped its salivating jaws at him, its slanted eyes narrowed further in aggression. Nero snarled back at it, not even pretending to fight off the urge to do so when his devil side started to surface.

He pulled his sword back and let the rest of the demons come at him, using his bare hands to knock them away. The crack of several bones breaking echoed along with the demons' growls and squeals of pain as Nero fended them off. A couple he managed to get a hold of and he reveled in being able to snap their skinny little necks. But the more he killed or smacked away, the more jumped on top of him and started biting and clawing at his clothes and skin until both his and their blood started to stain the grass that waved in a strengthening wind.

Even with so many converging on him, Nero managed to lift up Red Queen and used as much strength as he could muster to slam the blade repeatedly into the ground around him, forcing most of his attackers to back away or be crushed like a few of them that weren't fast enough did. He continued to pound with his sword, arm beginning to ache from the effort, but he chose to ignore it; a low hoarse cry rising from his throat as he slammed harder, faster, finally twisting the Exceed system and swinging his sword almost wildly at the demons. Flames spread out around him, the tall grass quickly catching the fire and spreading it further. The demons fled from the crackling flames, but they didn't last. Once the worst of it abated when the grass burned away, they just ran back at the young hunter through the thick black smoke.

Nero dropped his sword as he strong-armed a few demons off of him before several hands grabbed at his ankles and yanked him down into the dirt. Once he was on his stomach, they all tried to climb onto his back. Instinct had Nero lifting his hands to cover the back of his head and neck while they ripped apart his coat, shredding through his layers of clothes and finally into his skin. He couldn't hold back the sharp cry of pain as fire tore through his back. The demons weren't going to stop until they shredded him completely and he had to wonder why he hadn't triggered at that point. He'd already put up a pretty good fight, but with his devil side being uncooperative, he wasn't strong enough to take them all on alone.

He was still trying to come up with a way to get out of being pinned – usually Dante was around to get him out of a nasty scrape right about now – when suddenly the demons on top of him started to shriek, their bodies seizing before they pulled their claws out of him and tried to run, a few sagging lifelessly to the ground around him. Their skin now blackened by whatever had hit them.

Blinking in surprise, Nero stiffly pushed himself up onto his knees and found his eyes centering on the blonde demoness standing not ten feet away.

"Well it certainly took you long enough to get here." Trish said off-handedly, flipping back her hair with the hand that didn't currently have streaks of lightning arcing between her fingers.

Nero couldn't help but take offense at that. "Excuse the hell out of me, but you could've come and given me a hand sooner if you were worried about time."

Trish shrugged as she sent out another wave of electricity that caught at all the retreating demons, killing most of them. The ones that didn't die seemed more interested in dragging their half paralyzed bodies away than coming back for another round. Nero stood up and tried not to wince at the burning pain that was lingering in his back. What was left of his tattered coat felt wet and heavy, but he wasn't going to even try to get a look at it. His back probably looked like hamburger right at that moment.

"To be honest, I thought they were fighting amongst themselves again," Trish said quietly as Nero retrieved his sword, grimacing at just the thought of trying to rest it on his back. Instead he let it drag behind him as he walked through the ankle-deep ash towards the steps of the church where Trish was waiting for him. "They congregated not long after I went down into the basement. I locked myself in while I was doing my research, but more gathered than I expected." She explained; which clarified why she had asked Nero to come to her instead of the other way around. It also partially cleared up why she didn't want Dante tagging along.

Nero wasn't particularly interested in her plight, however; walking past her into the church that was just as dilapidated as the outside. When she reached out to touch his torn back, he side-stepped her and shook his head. "I'm fine."

He looked around at the cobwebs and half rotted wooden beams above, dust and broken pews before him on the floor. It really was a sad little structure; hard to believe that there could be anything of value in it. Though he supposed that was why whoever put together the library below it chose the church in the first place. Another part of their reasoning could easily be superstition; believing that a holy place could contain any dark energy the books contained.

"If you say so." Trish's heels dully clicked behind him before she swept past and led the way beyond what remained of a door and down a narrow, unlit staircase. Nero was having a bit of trouble navigating while being injured and having to cart around his sword, but somehow he made it to the bottom of the winding stairs without falling on Trish. That would've been awkward.

Once at the bottom, the huntress continued without breaking stride down a cramped tunnel and finally through another doorway into a room that was lit by three lanterns. The smell of burning oil and mold filled his nose and Nero lifted a hand to rub at it to prevent sneezing. The room was round in the center, but branched off into four aisles that were lined with half collapsed shelves of books. Thankfully, Trish seemed to have all the books of value collected and piled on the small tables before them, so they wouldn't have to go down any of those darkened aisles.

"Okay," Nero sighed, "I get why you didn't come talk to me yourself, but…why all the intrigue? Why not just call the office?" it was one of the two biggest questions he'd been left with from her cryptic message that brought him all the way out here.

Trish snapped closed the book she had picked up, sending out a small plume of dust. She used the worn text to indicate the open book lying out on a nearby table that looked like it could barely hold up the ancient tome. "I didn't want to risk Dante answering. You know how nosy he gets. If I called and asked to talk to you, he'd do whatever it took to learn what I said and I don't want to get his hopes up too high."

Nero frowned as he tried to read the faded print that looked to be some kind of prayer or chant on the yellowed pages, afraid to touch or even breathe on the book lest it crumble. How old was this library anyway? "You said you may have a plan." He urged. That was his second biggest question he wanted answered.

"I do, but it isn't one he's going to like."

By 'he', Nero assumed she meant Dante. He wasn't sure he was going to like it much either by Trish's tone. "Let me guess…it's the only choice we got."

"At this point, it's safe to assume there isn't going to be any option B popping up at the last minute." Trish affirmed before nodding towards the open book. "But this plan has the potential to both get Dante's soul back _and_ locate the Collector's master who started all this."

That…sounded far too good to be true, Nero decided, wary about asking his next question. But he knew it had to be asked, and he wouldn't deny that he was itching with curiosity. "What's the plan then?"

Trish looked him dead in the eye and for a brief moment, Nero saw what she truly was: a demon with a plot; scheming even though it was to help them. The younger man saw the potential for an enemy in the woman's knowledge and the substantial threat it could pose if she turned against them and the rest of humanity.

She blinked, breaking the intense eye-contact and the feeling was gone. But the uneasiness returned full force when she finally spoke.

"We're going to summon our own Collector."


	14. Chapter 14

_Helluva day, people...helluva day_

**A/N:** I did my best to reply to everyone who left a review. Much love to you guys who took the time to do so. You're all very busy with school and/or work and I feel weird just going to work since I'm taking a year off classes. I'm sorry to say that I confused myself with my own plot (how fail is that?) and there's been a lot of rewriting and frustration put into this new chapter. I hope it all came out right. I'd be so damn embarrassed if I messed up in this final draft I've edited several times already!

This chapter is siginificantly shorter than the previous one, but it's still over the word minimum I set up for this story, so it isn't lacking in that department at least, right? Woo! I could really use some cake...hey Blood! Make me a cake! Better yet, make them cupcakes! I'll somehow invent extra time in the day so you can actually do so, lol.

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom

**Warnings: **potential failed plot that could (also potentially) ruin an until now good story, heavily possible OoCness, and a depressed author who somehow managed to write no real angst in spite of her mental state (just call me talented).

**Dedications:** Everyone who has read this story, favorited it, reviewed it, loved it, enjoyed it, you guys are the only reason it's made it this far.

* * *

><p>"Really." Nero said dubiously after letting Trish's words – her amazing, 'come here, listen now' plan – hang in the stale air between them for a moment. He had to admit, he'd been expecting something a bit more helpful to their current situation. Including another Collector, one they'd summoned themselves, seemed more like they were adding trouble.<p>

Trish wasn't bothered by his skepticism. "If we summon a Collector ourselves and have it sent to collect Dante's soul back from whoever took it in the first place, we can follow it to wherever the culprit is hiding out." She stated simply, as if it was no big deal for them to summon a demon to counter someone who'd done the exact same thing.

A draft came from somewhere in the underground room and Nero shivered, biting back a wince as the involuntary motion agitated his still healing back; as well as reminding him that his coat and shirt were completely shredded, leaving his back pretty much bare. He stabbed Red Queen into the crumbling stone floor and leaned against it heavily since there was nowhere to sit. "So you're saying we'll just summon a demon," which pretty much went against what they did for a living, "Allow it to steal a soul," even if said soul was stolen in the first place, it still sounded wrong to stand idly by and let it happen, "And then let it live."

"It's close to impossible to kill a Collector, and to do so would take more time and resources than we currently have." Trish replied flatly, obviously not moved by Nero's sarcasm. "The Collector will hold the soul we demand it to retrieve until we or someone else exchange it for something of equal value."

Nero figured he'd come all this way and nearly been skinned alive, he might as well listen to her reasoning. Besides, if she was right and there really was no plan B, this was their only chance at helping Dante. "And that would be…?" he prompted.

"Another soul that would equal the power seated in Dante's." Now she was starting to sound hesitant and Nero didn't like where this was going.

"Where are we going to get something like that?" He muttered, mostly speaking to himself, but Trish answered anyway with a truth he already knew and didn't want to hear.

"We don't. There isn't a single soul I know of that we could easily get access to that would equal Dante's in power." She paused before adding, "The only way we would be able to pull this off is to offer multiple souls in exchange until both sides are equal. I'm assuming that's what the one who started all this did."

Nero rested his head against his arms where he hung off his sword wearily. Basically, they were screwed if they didn't utilize this plan Trish had come up with. But they were screwed anyway even if they did implement it. Of course the person who started all this wouldn't come up with the same problem they did. Someone who would stoop to stealing souls to gain power didn't exactly have a moral compass that pointed due North, so they would have little problem with sacrificing theirs or anyone else's souls to get what they wanted. "There is no way in hell Dante is going to go for this." He finally said aloud what they were both thinking.

Trish's sigh was audible and he listened as her heels dully clunked away from him and then back. Without looking up he could tell she was pacing. "I know he won't. But there isn't any other option I can find. I've been down here for a week straight and this is the best I could come up with." She sounded disappointed in herself and Nero felt strangely moved to comfort her even though he didn't have the slightest clue how to go about doing that.

"How can we be sure that while we collected enough souls to trade for Dante's, someone else wouldn't trade with the Collector for it?" He asked, lifting his head.

"We can't be sure. It's a flimsy plan, but it's better than sitting around and waiting for something that isn't going to happen on its own."

That was true enough. But still…Nero was hesitant to say it was okay to go with Trish's plan. He found he wasn't comfortable making decisions for other people. For sure, Dante would be against it. The older hunter hated anyone making sacrifices for him, and he would balk instantly at the suggestion of gathering a bunch of innocent souls together just to get his own back. He'd say something like, _"I'm doing just fine being blind. Look, see? I haven't fallen down the stairs in days, and I've only stubbed my damn toes twice in the past hour. As for not having a soul, well, mine was pretty corrupted to begin with…"_

Except it was clear that Dante would die if he remained in his handicapped state; just because he'd lost his demonic strength and ability to see didn't mean any of the countless enemies the cocky bastard had made throughout his devil hunting career would leave him be. Nero couldn't be with Dante all the time as much as he'd like to. And some of the demons after Dante's head, Nero hated to admit, he wasn't sure he could fight and win.

But if Nero were to tell Trish that it was okay to go ahead with her plan, whether Dante fought against it or not, he had a sick feeling the older man would end up…hating him again.

"….how much time do we have to think about this?" He asked at length.

Trish paused in her pacing and by the look on her face Nero could tell she was growing frustrated with his hesitation. "Not long. The ritual to summon a Collector requires that it be done during a new moon. So…roughly a week. Maybe less. But," she added, "The more time we spend wondering if we should do it or not, the less time we have to do something at all."

She had a good point there. Nero sighed tiredly and dropped his head down again. "I guess I'll head back to the city and tell Dante. See what he thinks about all this."

"Nero, I called you out here alone so he wouldn't be involved in the decision. No matter how neat the plan could be, he'd still say no and we'd be back to square one. You have to be the one to say yes." Nero was waiting for her to add on the 'or no' part to that sentence, but she didn't. His eyebrows went up as his head lifted once more.

"What does me saying yes have anything to do with if you summon the Collector or not? You seem pretty set on your plan; either of us saying no would hardly stop you."

Trish shifted a bit before folding her arms under her breasts in an almost defensive position. "I can't summon the Collector myself. I'm not a very well-liked demon where they come from. Even if I tried, it would probably ignore my summons and that would leave an opening for something else to come out instead."

Nero almost groaned at her answer, considering the merits of sinking down to the floor and curling up right there. So in the end, it all came down to him because even less likely than Dante approving the plan, was Lady volunteering to summon a demon; even if it would help her friend. He had to not only make the decision, but if he did he was going to be the one who had to summon the damn thing. He'd never summoned a demon in his life, and he'd never planned to.

"Just so we're clear," he began, unable to believe he was actually considering her crazy idea and yet elated at the thought of fixing Dante, "If this works out, Dante will be back to normal, right?"

"He will have his demonic powers back, yes." Trish said slowly and Nero felt another chill at the way she was speaking carefully, choosing her words.

"But…?"

"But there isn't a guarantee that his eyes will recover. He could be back to normal right away. He may remain blind for a time afterwards. He may remain blind for the rest of his life. I don't honestly know since there was nothing in any of the books I read about it; however, he will have all his strength back and with his stronger devil senses and reflexes, I believe he would do just fine even without his eyes. He's always been good at adapting."

He wasn't completely reassured by that, but there was little else they could do. And when Nero really considered their options, the pros of the plan seemed to greatly outweigh the cons. If it was successful that is.

Trish interrupted his thoughts by closing the open book on the rickety old table. He watched as she lifted up the thick tome as if it weighed nothing and started for the stairs. "If you don't mind, I'd rather you finish thinking about this while we drive. I'm sick of this library and I'd like to get back home before those demons come crawling back and surround us again." She obviously hadn't thought it would take Nero this long to decide. The young hunter had to wonder why he wasn't jumping at this seemingly golden opportunity; a plan of action that could fix all their problems.

In the end, it all came down to the fact that he didn't want Dante to be mad at, or resent him. And that was pretty damn selfish.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** I'm sorry I didn't send replies to your guys' reviews this time. I just don't really have the energy right now. That and I'm not really in a good mood. I stayed home sick from work today, so I had the time to put the finishing touches on this chapter. I apologize if this chapter seems a bit...off. Not because of my mood while I was writing it. It may be off because half of this I wrote ahead of time and just altered some of the sentences so it fit in with the turn the story took a chapter or two back. I hope it all fits. And before anyone gets on my case about a certain someone crying, I defensively point out that vulnerability knows no gender...and he's done it before. So don't make me slap you, lol!

**Disclaimer: **Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom.

**Warnings:** Return of the Angst...WITH A VENGENCE. Ah, but that's okay. You all seemed to be getting complacent and of the mind that things would work out between these two. The story isn't over yet. There's still a chance there's not a happy ending waiting for you all. I just wanted to remind you all of that. (feels evil)

**Dedications:** All of you awesome people who reviewed last chapter. Who've reviewed any chapter for that matter! And I hope you continue to read and enjoy this story. Have some strawberries!

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><p>With nightfall came a biting cold that drove nearly all but the heartiest or homeless off the streets of Capulet. After an eventful day of dragging Dante around and dodging traffic, Lady had decided she wanted to relax a little and Devil May Cry was not the place to do so. As much as it had galled her to let not just a man, but Dante of all people, into her domain, the devil huntress had led the blind idiot to her loft. It was sparsely furnished since she didn't spend much time there, but at least it was warm, dry, was stocked with edible food, and had a working television; pretty much everything that the devil hunting office didn't have. After some arguing about what they were going to eat, the two stubborn hunters compromised on reheating a couple boxes of leftover Chinese that Lady had sitting in her fridge.<p>

An hour or so after that decision found the two of them on Lady's old couch with the tv on. Empty beer cans and two bottles of hard liquor were spread over the coffee table along with half a dozen, half-eaten boxes of Chinese food. Dante had jokingly asked if she were packing on pounds in preparation for winter hibernation, only to get smacked upside the head. Lady liked to eat on the go, so she tended to order extra to ensure leftovers.

While he couldn't see whatever was on the tv, Dante was grateful to listen to it instead of the silence that had been driving him nearly crazy for the better part of the past two weeks. And while it wasn't any easier to eat, he managed to keep the box close to his face which resulted in minimal spilling of the spiced noodles he regrettably found he enjoyed. He'd missed out on a lot of great takeout by stubbornly adhering to his pizza-only diet; not that he would admit to it aloud.

Lady set her now empty box on the table and retrieved a fresh beer, snapping it open with a small sigh. She'd kept her attention mostly on the old movie that was playing, but her mind was centered more on the uncharacteristically quiet devil hunter sitting next to her. If she really thought about it, it must have been almost…seven to ten years since the last time they had done something casual together like this. It was nostalgic and kind of nice. Of course, she would never admit that to him.

"What do you think it is that Trish found out?" She asked after a moment, glancing over at Dante only to see that he wasn't eating anymore. Instead he seemed to be staring into space and she had to wonder if that were even possible if someone was blind.

Dante had been doing his best to not think about Trish or Nero or whatever her reasons were for calling the younger man to her and refusing to divulge the information to all of them. The moment he'd heard Lady pass on Trish's message, he'd had a bad feeling take up home in his gut and it was still there. Either that or the Chinese wasn't agreeing with him. Sighing, he carefully lowered the box into his lap. "I honestly have no idea."

"You want to make a bet on whether it's good news or bad news?" Lady ventured. Dante seemed down in spite of their eventful afternoon and she felt compelled to cheer him up.

He smiled half-heartedly at that. "With what money? I'm still just as broke as I was when I could see."

"So it won't be a serious bet," Lady shrugged, "It will just be for a bit of fun. See who's more perceptive. You in?"

"If I were, what side would you take?" Dante asked curiously, turning his face in the direction of her voice. He listened as she hummed thoughtfully, already convinced that she was going to take the side of 'bad news'. Lady was kind of a pessimist like that.

"I think…for once that you're going to get lucky and it's going to be good news." She said much to his surprise.

Dante raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if she'd elaborate as to the why of her choice, but none was forthcoming; as usual. He laughed a bit self-mockingly. "Oh great, that would make me the pessimist. I see what you did there."

Lady laughed at him. "Believe it or not, that wasn't intentional."

"Sure," he said doubtfully, but his small smile remained. "Honestly, I think there's probably some good news mixed in there…but there's always a catch. Things have to be complicated if you want any kind of decent outcome."

"Are you saying that because it's habit or do you really believe things have to be complicated?" Lady asked with a small smirk.

Dante shrugged as he thought about the answer. "When has it ever been plain and simple?" he argued and Lady found herself hard-pressed to disagree. "Besides," he continued, "This time there are…variables that add to the chance of complications."

"Hm. By 'variables', you mean Nero, right?"

"Guess I need to practice my subtlety." Dante mumbled to himself, trying to remember where he last put his drink. Maybe he'd already finished it and needed a new one. Or maybe not…he was probably drunk enough. Along with everything else he seemed to have lost his tolerance for alcohol.

"Actually," Lady said as she sat back, sipping her fresh beer. "I just wanted some opening to bring him up. I'm curious to know what exactly is going on with you two these days."

"Probably not what you're thinking."

Lady frowned at the evasive answer. She hadn't been lying. She really was genuinely curious about how the two were getting along. From what she had seen of them together, they had to at least be playing nice. Was it possibly just that? They were playing nice with each other because of the current circumstances? Or were they actually working out their issues finally? Lady didn't want to pry too much, especially if Dante didn't want to willingly talk about it.

But she felt it was something she needed to know; as Dante's friend. If Trish had a viable plan and Dante was cured of his blind, soulless condition, she wanted to be certain they weren't going to go back to fighting; that Nero wasn't going to run off again. She'd dealt with a heartbroken Dante once; she didn't care to go through that a second time.

"I just thought you would jump at the chance to talk about him like you used to, is all." Lady said in the following silence. "Didn't mean to make things awkward."

They went back to sitting in silence, the quiet voices from the tv seeming to swell in volume to fill the gap of conversation. Lady had nearly finished off her newest beer when Dante finally spoke.

"I don't want to chance jinxing anything."

The unexpected, delayed reply made her inhale a bit of her current drink in surprise, which resulted in a coughing fit.

"Jesus, don't drown. I think you've had enough." Dante said wryly once Lady calmed down a bit, the woman panting slightly.

"Shut up," She muttered as she set the can aside and grabbed the remote to turn up the television as a new movie started; mostly to cover up the sound of Dante laughing at her, but also to distract them both from the strangely vulnerable response Dante had given on the subject of his slowly changing relationship with Nero.

-o-o-o-

By the time he got back home, Nero couldn't take his vicious cycle of thinking. Though Lady and Dante could probably hear the car as he drove down the street and parked by the devil hunting office, he still got out and started walking back the direction he'd come from. He couldn't be there right now. Not when he was so close to falling apart. He didn't need anyone else to see the incoming emotional breakdown he'd managed to push back the whole drive from getting to Trish and the resulting conversation during the ride back.

She had explained again, quite simply, how they could conceivably get Dante's soul back. Honestly, it didn't seem like it would be much trouble, taking other souls from someone else aside, and at the same time they could track down who had taken it in the first place. If it hadn't been for that last sentence the demoness had uttered on the drive back to the city, Nero would almost think things were going right for once.

"_If this plan works, Nero…Dante will be back to his normal self; perhaps even more aggressive than before for a while as he readjusts. The point is, he won't need you anymore."_

Why did she have to say it like that? She'd worded it as if Dante had no use for him outside of some kind of nanny to nurse him during a difficult time. As if Nero couldn't mean anything to Dante beyond that. He'd been getting past his doubts of just that, but now they had returned full force.

Nero staggered to a stop, his steps faltering as he neared the end of the street. The wind had been gusting all day, the sky bleak with heavy gray clouds hanging low, threatening to drown the world in rain. There was an edge of frost in the stiff breeze that was building up quickly into a full blown gale, but Nero didn't even notice the way his skin prickled and he involuntarily shivered, his fresh shirt doing nothing to block the cold without the help of his now ruined coat that he'd left in the car. He was too focused on his thoughts. Confused, twisted feelings arose in his chest as he repeated Trish's words in his head. He was almost disgusted with the first thing that came to mind when he heard her speak those words. When she had said Dante wouldn't need him anymore after he got his soul back – whether his blindness was cured or not, he would have his demonic strength and senses back to compensate – Nero's first response had been that he would rather Dante…not have his soul back.

It was so damn selfish of him to think like that, even worse than not even considering Trish's plan because he didn't want Dante angry, but he couldn't help it. Worse, he was thinking that he didn't even know for sure if he was still in love with Dante. For that matter, Nero still wasn't sure he'd ever actually been in love in the first place. He wasn't even sure he knew what love was anymore. He'd thought love was like what he'd felt for Kyrie; something gentle and tender, building fondness for someone over years of being with them.

But with Dante it was so different. From the very start Nero had felt overwhelmed. Too many powerful emotions that threatened to overtake him, stealing away his ability to think logically. And it was painful. Indescribably painful. Love wasn't supposed to be like that, was it? Maybe it was. He was starting to learn that there were different kinds of love. Some were easier to handle than others. Nero's supposed love for Dante didn't give him a choice. He didn't think, he just felt; and therein laid the problem. There were too many variables that could make this attempt at starting over with Dante go horribly wrong.

Sucking in a sharp, hitched breath, Nero barely managed to stumble into the nearest alley, bracing his back against one wall as he stretched one arm out to hold himself up against the opposite wall. His devil bringer dulled to dark cobalt as his left hand came up and covered his mouth, stifling the sudden onslaught of desperate sobs that wracked his chest. With a deep rumble of thunder, the sky finally poured down sheets of rain that pelted at his bent head. Within moments he was soaked to the bone, but whether it was from the rain or his own tears, Nero couldn't tell. He felt so relieved to let it all out, and at the same time so wretched and pathetic. It was such a damn girly response, being so emotional about something so trivial. But even that thought couldn't stop him from crying. The walls he'd stubbornly built against ever letting himself be hurt again had crumbled into dust. He was left bare and vulnerable to not only Dante's words and actions, but his own thoughts and doubts again.

Nero could not stand being so weak; anymore than he could stand being apparently so disposable.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Uuuhhh...hi? Wow this is awkward...it's been so long. And I thought I felt bad BEFORE I'd been gone for months. A-anyways, what's up you guys? I am seriously sorry for being gone so long. I have a whole lineup of legitimate excuses!

HERE BE A NEW CHAPTER! I apologize for how slow it is. How lacking in adding to the plot it is, but I'm saving that for AFTER what is going to happen over the next two chapters that I have outlined and am currently working on right at this moment...for serious. It's right there -points to other window behind this one- it's in progress. I'll probably have the next two chapters done before the end of this week, but I'll upload them slowly...to give my brain time to recover from this burst of creation and keep it going. I guess you can thank the holidays for my sudden inspiration...along with a solid four hours of DMC4. I did it to motivate myself, but also because I needed to study Nero like a bug under a microscope. We're talking little details here people. Why? You'll find out soon enough you snoopy little reader you, ha!

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom.

**Warnings: **Not a whole lot for this one actually. I'm playing it slow, getting my groove back. Put up with it, lol.

**Dedications: **The people who continued to read and review and favorite this story even though I put it on hold and hadn't updated it in months. Your belief in me picking it back up soon was not completely unfounded and I am humbled by your faith! I'd also like to thank my veteran readers who have been keeping patience with me. I couldn't keep writing without you!

Without further ado, I hope you read and like this next installment. I'm sorry it's not moving forward more quickly but thems the brakes peeps. At least it's over 2,000 words. I almost spoiled you by combining this and the next chapter...but nah, I'll make you work for it -evil grin-

ENJOY!

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><p>Dante groaned as something jabbed him in the ribs, attempting to roll away from whatever it was so he could continue sleeping. Much to his frustration, what he was lying on didn't give him much room to move and he was jabbed again.<p>

"Dante! Get your lazy ass up." Lady commanded as she poked her booted foot into the still sleeping man's side. She crossed her arms where she stood by her couch, balanced on one leg as the other was occupied with attempting to rouse her 'guest'. "It's bad enough I let you come over. If I wasn't so out of it yesterday, you wouldn't have stayed. This isn't a sleep-over."

He sighed and lifted his head finally. "I got it already, quit kicking me." He grumbled. Waking was always strange. His eyes opened, but everything was still black. It didn't help that every night when he eventually did fall asleep, there was always this sickening hope that come morning he'd wake and be able to see again. For once, he'd give anything to be awakened by the annoyingly bright sunlight that would always be directed right at his face in the morning.

Even with his acknowledgement to Lady's wake-up call, it still took Dante a good ten more minutes to convince himself to get moving; and even before he could sit up, the slight huntress came back and physically hauled him off of her couch to the floor. It was significantly colder down there than on the couch he'd warmed with his own body heat throughout the night previous and finally he was roused enough to stand. He swayed a bit, and Lady caught his arm as if the action were automatic. He considered thanking her for saving him the embarrassment of falling over himself, but decided against it. She rolled him onto the floor. That negated any niceties they may have exchanged this morning.

"What time is it anyway?" he mumbled, rubbing at his face tiredly.

"Almost nine." Lady answered from somewhere to his left. He listened to her boots clomping across the floor, putting distance between them as he processed her words.

"…in the morning?" he asked incredulously.

Her exasperated sigh was enough of a reply and he groaned into his palms.

"Get over it. Now come on. Nero and Trish should be back and I want to hear what great plan they've come up with."

The mention of Nero and any sort of plan that could solve his most pressing problem helped Dante stay alert as Lady tossed his coat at him. He dragged on the worn leather as he heard Lady arming herself close by. Knowing her, there would be at least five guns stored somewhere on her person. How she kept so many on her and out of sight with her choice in outfits was still a mystery to him even after all these years.

"Ready?" Lady asked as her footsteps came up next to him and a hand slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Just waiting for you, princess."

She snorted at that and gave him a punch where her hand had been perched for good measure before grabbing at his elbow and all but dragging him out the door.

When they finally made their way down the dirty side street and Devil May Cry came into view, Lady noted that Dante's red convertible was parked and covered in its usual place beside the devil hunting office, a sure sign that her predictions of Nero returning with Trish were correct.

"Looks like Nero did make it back." She mumbled, mostly to herself.

Dante visibly perked up at those words, what drowsiness was still clinging after Lady's rude wake-up call washing away. He jammed his foot into the bottom step leading up to the front doors in his eagerness to get inside, nearly pitching forward onto his face. After a second to regain his balance and tell a snickering Lady to shut her face, he quickly climbed the steps and shoved open the doors. It was good to get out, but he'd realized yesterday that he had come to rely on the familiarity of his office. In his current state, anywhere he didn't have such a strong memory of would require a guide to navigate.

At least here at home, he could be self-sufficient.

He frowned at the silence that greeted them, however. Before he could ask Lady where everyone was or call out for Nero, he recognized the faint sound of the shower running upstairs. Sighing, he counted the steps to the couch in his head, hand reaching out just in time to catch the back of the lone surviving piece of furniture. Once he sat, he couldn't help an involuntary smile of satisfaction at being back. Lady's place was nice…but it wasn't _his_.

Lady watched as, nearly instantaneously, all of the quiet tension that had clung to Dante yesterday afternoon through to this morning, vanished. She supposed she couldn't blame him for being glad to be home. It probably helped that Nero was apparently just upstairs. The raven-haired woman wondered where Trish ended up as her eyes wandered around the office and finally landed on Dante's desk. She frowned as she noticed what looked like Nero's coat tossed on top of it. She went over to grab it with the thought of hanging it up just for something to do, only to freeze in place as she stared at the bloodstained and torn back of the denim.

It looked like the coat had been put through a paper shredder. And judging by the amount of blood caked on the material that was still attached by barely a thread, Nero had been wearing it when it got torn so badly.

She couldn't help the sharp inhale of surprise at the discovery; anymore than she could stop the half-mumbled word that followed. "_Shit,"_

"What?"

She jumped when Dante spoke, quickly pulling the ruined coat behind her back as if Dante could actually see it if she didn't. "Uh…I just realized I broke a nail. Probably yesterday while I took you around town. So it's your fault." She said to hide her floundering. She'd kept her voice low, but apparently Dante's hearing was still as good as ever if he caught that curse.

From his spot on the couch, the blinded hunter raised an eyebrow in her direction. "It's always my fault."

"Bet your ass it is. Just because you're blind doesn't get you off the hook." Lady replied, dumping the coat on the floor and kicking it behind the desk and out of view just for good measure. She didn't know why she felt compelled to not tell Dante about it. Well, she supposed she did. He had enough on his plate right now without adding on worrying about Nero's health. Besides, if the younger man managed to get back home and was well enough to stand in the shower, he couldn't be _that_ bad off, right?

Rather than annoyed, Dante looked both amused and maybe a bit relieved to fall back into their usual roles of bantering. "Figures," was all he had to say about it.

She was saved from coming up with a retort that would have been moot considering their conversation was over when the running water cut off upstairs. Lady leaned back against the edge of Dante's desk and crossed her arms as she stared at the staircase expectantly. Again she had to wonder where Trish might be. Surely she came back with Nero and didn't stay out there alone…

Lady pondered that question, prepared to ask it immediately as she drummed her fingers, ticking away the seconds until Nero came downstairs. Thankfully he didn't keep them waiting too long as she heard his footsteps coming down the hall and the younger man finally came into view. She reconsidered Nero being 'alright' after whatever injury had destroyed his coat once she got a good look at him. The young knight was bent forward and seemed overly tired. He was walking a bit stiffly, but there was no discernable wound that she could see and he wasn't bleeding out.

Still, to her it seemed like he'd aged ten years in the last twenty-four or so hours.

"Welcome back," Lady greeted, tamping down her impatience for a bit longer.

Nero looked up from the floor and over the balcony to where Lady was casually leaning against the desk and looking at him strangely. He frowned but his eyes were drawn over to the sound of Dante shifting where he sat on the couch. He was still exhausted from his earlier breakdown, but after a shower his wounds had finally closed and Nero had almost started to feel normal again. One look at Dante's upturned face and all that unraveled as Trish's words replayed in his head.

"_He won't need you anymore…"_

Swallowing the unexpected lump forming in his throat, Nero trotted down the stairs though it made the still healing marks on his back stretch uncomfortably tight under his shirt. "I didn't hear you guys come in." he finally said.

Dante opened his mouth, no doubt prepared to say something that would've either irritated him or, hopefully, amuse him, but Lady cut him off before a single syllable passed his lips.

"Where's Trish?" she demanded, unable to wait any longer. "That was the whole reason you left, right?"

Nero tried not to growl at her. She had every right to want to get straight to the point. "I dropped her off somewhere else in the city." He answered.

"Why didn't you bring her back here with you?" Lady asked suspiciously.

"Because she didn't _want_ to come here; she wanted me to drop her off somewhere else," which was true. After he rejected her plan that second time, Trish had told him to just pull over and let her out on the sidewalk once they reached the city.

"Really," Lady replied, her tone distinctly disbelieving.

Nero grit his teeth, ire rising at Lady's blunt questioning. He hadn't expected the inquisition to be waiting for him when he came downstairs. It didn't help that Dante wasn't saying anything to avert her. Instead the older man was sitting quietly on the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward and listened attentively. What was he expecting? Did he think Nero wasn't telling the truth, just like Lady apparently did? "What don't believe me?" he must still be spoiling for a fight if he were deliberately provoking her.

"I just find it hard to believe that she would make you go to all that trouble to go find her, alone, and drive her back here but not come meet back up with us. Did she even tell you a plan to help Dante?"

He didn't much care for her accusing tone, or for the way Dante just let her blurt it out. Nero tried to calm his flaring temper, but he didn't have much patience to begin with and it was already frayed. "Yeah, she told me."

"So what's the plan then?" Lady asked, standing upright and lifting her chin as if to brace herself for whatever it might be, clearly prepared to do whatever was necessary to help Dante.

Nero opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself. He didn't want to tell them Trish's plan. He didn't agree with it, and if he told them that, he would have to explain why he didn't. If his worth to Dante was based solely on his current blindness, then Nero was feeling selfish enough to lie to them both if it meant he could keep what tenuous hold he'd been gaining on Dante for just even a little bit longer.

"It…isn't full formed yet." He said evasively. "She asked me to drop her off elsewhere because she was done gathering what information she could at that church and wanted to clean up and get some rest." Not a complete lie, but he still felt like a bastard.

Judging by the silence that followed his little lie, he could tell they didn't believe him and that just made Nero feel worse. It wasn't enough to make him take it all back and tell them the truth instead, however.

Lady narrowed her eyes at him before pushing away from the desk and walking right up to him. "That's all you're going to say?"

"That's all there is _to_ say." Nero insisted as he looked away from her too-knowing gaze.

She was quiet for a heartbeat of time, just long enough to make Nero give in to the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. "Fine." She huffed. "I'll go find Trish and see what she has to say about all this, then." She didn't give him a chance to stop her, turning away from Nero and striding right out the doors, slamming them open and letting them fall closed behind her.

Leaving him alone in the office with Dante, who was absently rubbing at his eyes and sighing tiredly; a sure sign he was about to start prying now that Lady was gone. Except Nero didn't think he could keep up his shaky charade when confronted with Dante one on one.

_Don't hate me just yet; please…I just want a little more time with you._ He pleaded silently before turning to face the inevitable.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** I have finally, FINALLY, written this next chapter. God, you all have NO idea how hard this was to get out. I had so many hopes for this chapter, so many ideas, so many different ways I wanted it to play out. What I ended up with is NOTHING like ANY of those ideas. After dinner I actually blindfolded myself for a while to get in the mood and inspire myself. It worked like a charm.

**Warnings:** Leeeet's see here...well, a bit of OoCness, angst, some fluff, but mostly...LIME ALERT. No but really, this didn't turn into a full blown sex scene like I'd originally planned...but you all should be grateful for that. In my original draft of the plot and this scene, Nero left at the end. I'm sure you'll all enjoy my rewrite much better than THAT. So no complaining!

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom.

**Dedications: **My lovely reviewers, as always, but mostly the song Deserving by Serj Tankian. I was having such a hard time getting started, but that song completely inspired me. If you've never heard it, take some time to listen, you'll probably see why it inspired me so much for this story (and this chapter in particular) xD Much loves and enjoy!

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><p>Much to Nero's surprise, Dante didn't immediately start into questioning him like Lady had. Frowning in the older man's direction, he turned to face the couch fully, trying to read the blind hunter's mind in the silence that reigned in the wake of Lady's departure. Dante wasn't even trying to look in Nero's direction, his blank gaze instead aimed straight ahead.<p>

Finally he couldn't take it anymore and blurted out, "You aren't going to ask me about Trish too? Not even about her plan? Say you don't believe me?" he asked.

Dante lifted his head at last and looked as if that were a ridiculous question to ask, making Nero even more confused. "No." he said at length, hands resting in his lap as he sat back.

"No?"

"I trust you to tell me the truth." he said easily. "If you say Trish wanted to go wherever she's calling home right now, then she did. If the plan isn't ready, then it isn't ready. I can wait a bit longer; somehow." He added the last word with a half-hearted grin. "And if you're lying, then you must have your reasons." He supposed he could handle being blind. What he couldn't stand was being so weak and nearly helpless. "But I wonder if I told Trish to stop looking for a way to get my sight back and just return my soul, she could put together a plan easier." He said to himself.

Nero ground his teeth and looked away from the quietly contemplative look on Dante's face. He thought he could hold onto his lie since Dante wasn't interested in interrogating him, but then the older man had to go and say that. It made Nero's guilt that much worse, because Trish already did have a viable plan to get Dante's soul back. And Dante was even cool with not having his sight returned. At this point, who knew? He might even be cool with sacrificing other souls to get his own back.

But even with the worry of Dante coming to hate him for the conditions of Trish's plan eliminated…Nero still didn't want to tell the truth. He was pathetic enough to need Dante to need him. After people stopped needing him in Fortuna, he was ignored, an outcast. He'd gone through that with Dante already, and Nero didn't think he could stand to do it even one more time now that he was actually falling in love with the idiot.

"Earth to Nero," Dante's voice broke into his guilt-ridden thoughts. "Hey, I know you're still out there. I can hear you breathing." He said smugly.

Nero closed his eyes for a moment and struggled to swallow back the urge he had to just tell the truth and get it over with. Dante wasn't questioning his loyalty, taking it at face value. He was willing to be patient and wait however long it took, willing to accept a lie. Hell, he was even acting like his usual teasing, smug self in spite of the disappointment he had to be feeling. Instead of answering the older man with words, Nero turned to where Dante sat again and walked closer, sliding an arm around the back of the couch to brace himself as he lowered himself to straddle Dante's lap.

Clearly not expecting the sudden weight on him, Dante jumped slightly, eyes widening before they fell closed the instant warm, full lips pressed against his own. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He'd wanted to kiss the younger hunter before Nero took off to find Trish, and he'd barely managed to control himself then. The whole time Nero was gone, doubts had been nagging at Dante, trying to push to the forefront of his mind despite his and Lady's best efforts. He worried that Nero would think too much while they were apart, would wonder what the hell he was still doing hanging around Devil May Cry and taking care of what amounted to a crippled devil hunter; basically a dead man walking. What could Nero possibly find attractive about a man who couldn't even properly defend himself should the need arise?

All of that worry and yet here Nero was, coming back here to him, kissing him with a silent desperation that echoed Dante's own. It was enough to make him think that they might just have a chance together.

Dante finally turned his face away when the need for air overrode the want to keep kissing Nero. He didn't bother to open his eyes, drawing in quiet breaths as he listened to Nero panting softly close enough he could feel the warm puffs of air on his face. "Miss me much, kid?" he asked teasingly, unable to help it when he was feeling ridiculously happy.

Instead of a dismissive or rude response, he got a painfully sincere, "Yes," not even a warning to not call him 'kid'.

That word felt like a stab to the chest and Dante felt more breathless than before. He drew in a deep breath, hoping it didn't sound as shaky to Nero as it did to him, and without thinking said something just to distract himself from the unknown feeling that was tightening his lungs and making his heart pound. "Aw, isn't that sweet?"

Nero grunted at that and Dante could almost hear the scowl in his voice when he replied with, "Jackass."

There was the punk he knew and, admittedly, was falling for all over again. Maybe for the first time, because it felt so different than when he and Nero were together before. "And you love me for it." he meant it to be teasing, but the silence that fell between them made it feel awkward. Nero even seemed to be holding his breath. Probably trying to decide if Dante really meant it or not.

_That makes two of us._ He had avoided ever using that word or any other affectionate words with Nero like the plague. He always found it hard to say those things to people where the emotion was genuine because he feared they would just think he was teasing, like he always did, and he'd be brushed off.

"…maybe I do," Nero whispered, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to keep it just between them though really there was no one else around to overhear. It made the words as intimate as they were surprising.

Dante wasn't sure how to reply to that, and was saved the trouble when lips ghosted over his own again, a warm tongue gliding over his parted lips a second after before his mouth was captured in another consuming kiss that was only made more potent by his lack of sight. His hands lifted from their lax place at his sides and found the rough, worn denim encasing Nero's thighs. He gripped at the solid muscles that were locked and tense from holding up most of the younger man's weight, smoothing his palms up the contours of narrow hips as he willingly let Nero dominate the kiss. As much as he enjoyed being the aggressor, sometimes – especially now – he felt the need to have his partner take charge. And Nero had been doing just that since the moment Dante had been blinded.

His hands continued up over Nero's hips, fingers slipping underneath the hem of a soft shirt to reach the still partially damp skin beneath. Dante pushed his hands up higher, the material of the clothing in his way bunching over his wrists. Nero had a trim waist, defined by but not overrun with muscle, and both of the younger man's hands gripped at Dante's hair, his kiss delving deeper in response to the soft touches ghosting across his abdomen. Lithe muscle rippled in the wake of his wandering hands that were now tracing the arch of Nero's ribcage, following the solid bone up to a smooth chest that squared out into wide shoulders. While not as wide as his own, Dante was still surprised at how much Nero had grown since they first met. The cocky kid had grown into his body properly, making him that much more formidable of an opponent. Dante couldn't have asked for a better bodyguard in his current vulnerable condition.

Dante moved his hands back down, taking a slightly different path than he had on the way up, fingers curling around Nero's sides to reach for his back; and that was when Nero broke away from the heated lip-lock both had been groaning into. He grabbed at Dante's hands and yanked them out from under his shirt before those questing fingers could touch his back, fingers curling tightly around the elder's wrists. The latter of who couldn't help but wince at the sharp talons biting into the skin around his left wrist where Nero gripped too hard with his devil bringer.

For Nero, he'd been more than willing to let Dante touch him forever if that's what the other wanted, but once those calloused hands had started towards his still healing back, he'd admit that he panicked slightly. He worried that Dante would feel the still raised and raw marks crisscrossing his back and put a halt to what they were doing. The last time they'd had sex, he knew he should've said no, but this time it was the last thing he wanted to happen. This time was different. _They_ were different.

To excuse himself from having to explain the rough grab, Nero eased his hold as he stared down into Dante's blind eyes that had gone from being full of desire to wary in a heartbeat. He let go completely and scooted off Dante's lap, feeling a small thrill of excitement at the disappointment that flickered over the half-devil's face. He must really not want to stop either. Nero reached out to take one of Dante's recently freed hands and tugged to signal him to stand. "Let's finish this upstairs."

-o-o-o-

Sheets rustled where they were bunched up under his bare back, the cotton folded over in some places, pressing into his skin. The air had grown hot and moist between the two bodies rolling up into each other, but it remained a tad too cool elsewhere, creating a contrast of heat and cold that made both continually shiver. Dante hadn't been disappointed when he let Nero take charge. The younger man didn't hesitate to lead him upstairs where he'd stripped them both down rather fast, but then slowed down to take the time to savor what both were counting as their real reunion after the fight that had driven them apart so long ago.

Nero had teased him with soft touches that had never quite brushed against the same place twice; leaving Dante in a constant state of anticipation, wondering where the next caress would come from, where on his body would be stroked and with which hand as Nero randomly alternated them. He was never sure if he would get blunt fingertips gliding over his stomach or sharp talons lightly scraping over his side.

The foreplay had been agonizing but in a good way, at least until Dante realized he had to wait to be teased even longer as his younger lover took his time preparing him. No doubt of the mind that, without his demonic healing powers, it was best to not rush the part most of the time they completely ignored. It was just another reason on the growing list of why Dante wanted – needed – his soul back.

Panting heavily, Dante somehow found the patience to wait for Nero to be satisfied that they would fit together with minimal damage done; opening his eyes partially though they were useless when Nero pressed their foreheads together, his fingers stilling. He basked in their intimate closeness, even as he cursed the most recent delay in getting to the good part. His fingers that had been absently rolling the younger man's hardened nipples between them, felt their way up along the side of Nero's neck and to his face, tracing over the stubborn jaw, the straight nose, the sharp cheekbones and furrowed brow, trying to map out the face he would give anything to see at that moment.

"I wish I could see you," Dante whispered between breaths. He _ached_ to see Nero again; feared that he never would.

Nero on the other hand, was glad that Dante couldn't see him. He had little doubt that all of the guilt and uncertainty was written on his face, plain as day. If he could see, Dante wouldn't trust him so implicitly and right now that was the only thing that was holding him together. "Why?"

"I miss being able to look at you whenever I want. I'm realizing I took that for granted in the past and wish I hadn't." Dante's tone implied he wasn't speaking of just his blindness, but of their constant fighting and separation before this whole mess.

At a loss for words, he slid up between Dante's parted legs, pressing their hips close and easing his way inside the other man as he took the hands off his face to lace their fingers. "I won't go anywhere," Nero gasped out, unsure and uncaring if Dante even heard him as he felt the tight heat wrapping around him, willingly letting his mind slide into a similar oblivion away from thought, away from fear and worry and guilt; away from the 'what ifs' of the future. What they had was now, and now was all Nero needed.


	18. Chapter 18

_Oh god, are these chapters getting longer?_

**A/N:** Check this shit out guys, Over and Over is officially my most successful story. It's the longest in chapters, has the most words and the most reviews! And lookit me updating so often after being gone so long. I guess my inspiration really is back for a while. Just in time for the holidays too, lol! Speaking of, hope you all had a great Thanksgiving! So, this is gonna be short and sweet. This was originally intended to be an introspective chapter, but I was feeling generous and instead took this chapter somewhere else. Because it was added as an afterthought (not to mention I drank two days in a row, went to work today and am finishing this late at night so I'm REALLY tired in spite of my Voltage drink's best efforts to the contrary), a certain scene at the end of this chapter isn't all that detailed, but ACCEPT WHAT I GIVE YOU!

**Disclaimer:** Devil May Cry and it's characters belong to Capcom.

**Warnings: **Look up and double check the story rating.

**Dedications: **Blood of Dusk, for making me laugh with your messages. You funny. This chapter and it's added scene at the end are for you.

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><p>The day passed in a blur, the late afternoon sun spilling in through the dirt-streaked window and painting the quiet bedroom a murky yellow-orange. Nero remembered every detail of it, yet it all ran together into some jumbled mess of sense memory. It probably didn't help that he was exhausted. But he couldn't make himself sleep. Dante didn't seem to have that problem, snoring softly where he lay next to the younger man in the mussed bed; the older man no doubt just as worn out from their eventful day alone together. Nero sighed and sat up, leaning back against the headboard as he drew up his knees, running a hand through his hair. His mind wouldn't let him rest, still working its way through all of the unexpected changes in his life that had been thrown at him; the least of which him and Dante making up. It was just a lot to take in at once. He needed to process.<p>

Nero suspected he was also being kept awake by his nagging conscience that still rebelled against him lying right to Dante's face that morning. He sighed and looked down at the slumbering man, the affection he felt welling up in his chest soured by how obvious it was that Dante had lost not just weight, but muscle mass as well. It was nearly three weeks since he'd first been blinded and weakened by the Collector, right under Nero's nose too, and every second of those long days were starting to show. Dante wasn't going to survive much longer if he stayed like this. And Nero had the chance to make it all better, yet he was holding back over something as trivial as his own selfish need to mean something to the famous Son of Sparda when it was obvious he already did.

He reached over and pushed Dante's messy hair back from his face that was lax with sleep. If he thought he was protective of the older man before, now he had no doubt whatsoever that he would do everything within his power and fight to his last breath for Dante. Nero was convinced it was love he felt now. The overpowering instinct to ruthlessly protect the one he cared for was a familiar one; one he knew how to deal with. Nero leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Dante's cheek, the sleeping hunter grumbling as he rolled over and gave Nero his back, making the younger man smile faintly.

Tossing back the blankets, Nero had to search the messy floor until he found his discarded jeans, pulling them back on without bothering with boxers. He was already walking out into the hall as he zipped them up, not sure where he was going but knowing he needed to move. He paused halfway down the stairs and looked down at his right arm, flexing the currently gray talon-tipped fingers. The devil bringer had been dull and rather unresponsive since he'd had that close encounter with the Collector. Nero had half a mind to be concerned about what might be going on with his own demonic side, but he had enough to worry about in Dante. There really wasn't the time to spare a thought for himself lately. He shrugged and continued down; his wandering eventually leading him over to Dante's abandoned desk where he found his ruined coat stuffed behind it and out of sight. Nero frowned as he tried to remember if he'd put it there, even as he tossed what was left of it aside and dropped down into the chair, cold wood touching his bare back and making him hiss lightly at the chill.

Within a few minutes his body had warmed the seat, allowing him to relax into it fully. Nero looked around the quiet office lit only by what little sun was coming in through the windows, trying to decide on how to feel at that moment. Should he be content? Still guilt-ridden and remorseful? Afraid? It was impossible to tell. The young man felt almost numb, but in a good way he supposed.

Nero kicked his feet up onto the desk, slouching down in the chair and crossing his legs at the ankles, arms tucked behind his head. He was starting to see why Dante enjoyed sitting here like this so often. From this spot he could see nearly the entire office, there was a solid wall at his back with plenty of weapons lined up should there be a need…but it also just had this effect on him. Nero was convinced he could sit here and be completely at ease, could find any answer to any question that might plague him; or alternately, have his mind cleared of those problems there was no easy solution for. Maybe that was why Dante sat here so much…or maybe it was just the fact that Dante did sit here so often in the same position that helped Nero adopt the same attitude the older man used to always flaunt. He used to be jealous of that. How Dante could be so sure of himself and never let anything bring him down. He fought demons, he refused to eat anything other than pizza, he was constantly hunted and feared; and yet he seemed happy with his lot in life. Or at least he had been until Nero tried to find a place in that equation and threw everything out of whack.

And sitting there in the silence with his whirling thoughts, Nero knew what he had to do. It went against every lie he'd told in the past twenty-four hours, but it had to be done. He dropped his legs to the floor and leaned forward, grabbing at the ancient rotary phone that had more scratches and dents on it, yet somehow had survived with the desk and couch weeks ago. He dialed the number he'd committed to memory after it had been recited to him, wondering if she would even answer…

"What." It wasn't a greeting, not even a question really. And Nero didn't hold that tone against her.

"It's Nero. Let's do it."

Silence greeted him and he had to wonder if she had just hung up on him.

"Are you sure?" she finally asked, voice low.

Nero took a deep breath and let it out. "Absolutely not, but let's do it anyway. Lady is looking for you, if she hasn't found you already. Bring her with you. I'll get Dante up to speed until you get here."

Again with the silence before Trish said again in that low, strange tone. "You're doing the right thing, Nero." Lady had probably already found her and told her about his lie...

"We'll see about that." He didn't say goodbye, just dropped the receiver back onto its cradle and leaned his face into his left hand, rubbing at his eyes roughly. So he did it. He manned up and gave the okay to Trish's plan. Now he just had to wake Dante and convince him to get dressed. Oh, and confirm with the older man that he lied to his face. For no good reason at all. _Well…that'll be a great wakeup call._

-o-o-o-

Dante was in relatively the same position as when Nero had left him about twenty minutes before, save for spreading his limbs out to take up more of the bed. The younger slayer rolled his eyes and leaned over the edge of the bed to shake Dante's shoulder. Except for a rumbling snore, he got no response. Nero huffed out a breath and crawled onto the bed, sitting up on his knees and gripping both of the older man's shoulders to shake him firmly. "Dante!" he said sharply. "Wake up you lazy ass." Still getting no response he grunted and moved to rest his knees on either side of Dante's waist, contemplating the best way to punch that parted, snoring mouth without doing too much damage.

The snore changed tone slightly as Dante's lips curled at the corners then faded completely. "And what are you doing?" he asked, voice still drowsy but clearly alert enough to realize Nero was sitting on his stomach. He didn't give the younger man a chance to respond, instead cutting off any reply by opening his eyes partially and asking, "Trying to seduce me? Seems moot at this point."

Nero's shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes again, swearing they were about to fall back into his skull. "Just don't tell me how long you were faking and we'll both leave this bed with all our parts."

"Mm, I suppose that's for the best. I plan on using a few of them in the very near future." Dante hummed in reply, hands sliding up Nero's legs to curl around his hips. The latter opened his mouth to argue but quickly found himself rolled onto his back, eyes wide.

"Dante!" he sputtered, failing to fend off the older hunter as Dante's mouth slowly lowered to find his neck and latched on; though admittedly, he wasn't trying all that hard, his resolve weakening further when Dante's hands threaded into his hair to tilt his head back. "Wait, I need to tell…we need to talk..." Nero's attempts to speak were hindered further when Dante broke away from giving him what would more than likely amount to a noticeable hickey to slide his cheek down the younger man's bare chest, stubble scraping over vulnerable skin along the way. Instinctively, Nero arched his back up and his eyes involuntarily slid shut. He was so focused on Dante nuzzling the sensitive skin under his navel he didn't notice that the other was pulling off his pants until his jeans were tossed back into the sty that was Dante's room, probably to never be found again.

Nero grit his teeth as cool air rushed over heated skin. He hadn't been trying to be evasive like before. He really did need to talk to Dante before Lady and Trish got there. He had to tell him about the lie he told and why before someone else did. It was always better to hear such confessions from the offender than a third party. But try as he might, every time his mouth opened, Nero found only breathy gasps escaping.

Dante straddled his lap and Nero didn't get a chance to take a breath let alone try again to speak as a warm hand engulfed his traitorous erection. Shit…hadn't Dante gotten enough of this earlier? If Nero had been in the older man's position he probably wouldn't want to have sex at all, forget about multiple bouts bottoming.

"You gonna join me or what, kid?" Dante asked in a strained voice as he blindly tried to position himself. "It wasn't easy getting this far on my own, you know. A little help wouldn't hurt."

As much as good conscience told him to stop, Nero sat up, already grasping at Dante's hips as the hand released him and angling them so they fit together more comfortably. Dante's fingers were wrapping themselves up in his hair again instead, and Nero's eyes closed at the sensation. Even when the grip Dante had on his hair tightened as he slowly pushed his way inside the older man, he was content enough to even ignore Dante's mumbled comment about him needing a haircut.

Dante took the lead at first, the older man rolling his hips where he sat, making Nero groan before the younger man picked up the slack and adjusted his weight to buck his own hips up. As far as sex went, it was nice. Not mind-blowing, but then it didn't have to be. Before it had all been about gratification between them; pure sexual attraction. Now they were just happy to be together. That was the entire reason Dante had started it in the first place. He just wanted to be with Nero again. That and he was a little concerned that whatever had gotten into them earlier wasn't genuine and wouldn't still be between them when they woke; thankfully it was.

He couldn't stop a rumbling groan when he felt Nero's talons bite into his back, the younger part-devil moving his hips with more force. Warmth streamed down his back and Dante knew it was blood; but for now he could care less. He was actually glad he wouldn't heal from it in moments. Maybe it would leave a scar and he could carry some part of Nero on him forever. Listen to him, being such a sap…

A sharp spike of pleasure shot up his spine, making Dante tense and drop his face down into Nero's shoulder to muffle the responsive moan. It was incredibly hot to not see, but feel the way Nero moved against him. Muscles bunching and releasing under skin he could just imagine turning red by the heat that was building up beneath the surface; heat he felt adding to the same flush that was spread over his own face. Another pleasurable spike sent shivers skittering through Dante's whole body, making him gasp out Nero's name. The kid got the message and angled himself to keep hitting that same spot and within a few more short but deep thrusts, Dante sank his teeth into the skin around the pulse he could feel hammering against his lips through Nero's sweat-slicked neck as the mounting pressure suddenly broke free; the salty skin releasing a thick, musky scent even his dulled human senses could pick up on.

Nero's hoarse cry sounded right next to his ear and Dante wouldn't have had it any other way as he dimly felt a hand snaking between them to stroke out the last of the older man's orgasm, mirroring the same release inside his partner.

-o-o-o-

Ten minutes and Nero fretting over the scratches on Dante's back later and neither of them had moved much from where they were laying side by side on the messy bed, the blankets haphazardly draped over them both. Nero rubbed a palm over his face and forced himself to sit up though he'd rather stay there. But they were going to have company soon. He looked down at Dante, half expecting him to be asleep again. Instead the blind man was staring at nothing, cloudy eyes half-lidded. "You alright?" Nero asked quietly, worried he might have gotten carried away.

Dante grinned suddenly. "You never stop worrying, do you?"

"Someone's got to. God knows you never bother." Nero muttered as he tossed the blanket off his legs and made himself leave the bed and search for his pants again, a thought nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp it; something telling him it was important that he remember. He chose to ignore Dante's chuckle at his words. "Now come on and get up already, Lady and Trish are going to be here any minute and if you want to clean up or even just be dressed before then, you have to get moving."

Dante groaned in protest at that and dragged the blanket up over his head.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** IT'S BEEN OVER A YEAR SINCE I UPDATED THIS. WHAT THE HELL, ME? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!

Anyways, here's a new chapter of this much loved story that I sadly abandoned for a while. If you find inconsistencies with this chapter, I deeply apologize. I've spent all day re-reading this story and getting back into the right mode, but I wrote the middle of this chapter a couple weeks ago without the re-read, so I was struggling to come up with a way to flesh it out and add a beginning that picked up where the last chapter ended, progress the plot somewhat and finish some character development. But...I think I finally did it. I like the way its flowing (somewhat), anyway. This chapter overall comes across as a bit light-hearted for the established tone of this story, but I did that on purpose. Will there be a return of angst? Who knows! I like building you guys up and then breaking you down. It's my evil right as an author to toy with your emotions, muahaha!

**Disclaimer: **Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.

**Warnings: **Probably OoCness, some language...

**Dedications:** This is part 2 of 3 of **Blood of Dusk**'s EXTREMELY BELATED Christmas present. Much loves to her and to all of you who have been waiting so damn long for me to update this story. I'm sorry for the long wait, and I'm sorry if this chapter isn't good enough for all the time you had to wait for it to show...however, that isn't going to make me change it xD All that matters is that I wrote something! I feel so proud of myself, WOO!

* * *

><p>Getting Dante out of bed was admittedly the hardest part. It didn't help that the older man didn't bother to help at all as Nero tried to haul him up. Instead it seemed he was trying his hardest to remain deadweight so Nero had to work hard just to get him out from under the covers and off the bed. Once that was out of the way, however, it was easier to convince him to take a shower and get dressed. Nero even fought dirty and chose to grab the blankets and stuff them under the bed so there was no temptation to get buried back under their warmth.<p>

Then he followed along behind Dante as the blinded hunter shuffled his way towards the shower, leaning one hand against the wall the whole way while absently propping the other against his back.

"You're shuffling like a real old man." Nero pointed out with a smug grin, sticking close by just in case.

Dante just grunted at him and kept going until they reached the bathroom. He didn't appreciate the old man comment, but wasn't going to complain about being sore. He did ask for it after all and he didn't regret his actions that had led up to this slightly painful end result. Likewise, he wasn't going to tell Nero no when the younger hunter followed him into the shower to 'help' him get cleaned up; just like he didn't argue when Nero helped him get dressed without even asking. Seemed taking care of him was becoming second nature to the kid.

"It's like having my own maid,"

"Keep talking like that and I'll lead your blind ass to the street and leave you there," Nero warned, though Dante could tell he wasn't entirely serious. There was real exasperation in his tone, but the kid wasn't going to intentionally do anything that would end with Dante hurt.

"Breaking my heart, kid." Dante sighed.

Nero echoed the sound, though his sounded more aggravated. "I almost forgot how much you like to hear yourself talk." But irritating as it was, Nero was glad for the banter. It was a sign that Dante was feeling better and behaving more like himself. It was no wonder the older man was in such a good mood, either.

Leading the way down the stairs after they were dressed so they could meet Lady and Trish when they arrived, Nero thought about how much better things were going now that they had more or less officially made up. The constant tension between them was gone, and the ache in his heart was starting to ease somewhat. It wasn't completely healed, but it was a great start. Dante seemed to be echoing his emotions; the other's hand resting on his shoulder as they slowly went down the stairs to the main floor a warm, comforting weight and the fingers squeezed slightly before slipping away since he didn't really need any guidance in Devil May Cry.

They had only just reached the desk near the middle of the room when the doors opened and Nero looked over to see the two women walking in, both sending him looks he guessed he deserved. And that was when he realized that he had completely forgotten to tell Dante about his lie. Now he would hear it from someone else if he didn't say anything right now. Nero's heart dropped into his stomach and he held up a restraining hand towards the two of them before either could speak.

"Dante, I need to tell you something." He said earnestly.

The older man turned towards his voice and inclined his head. "What?"

Nero hesitated as he tried to think of how best to go about this. He decided he'd best start with what Trish had told him back in that old library under the church. "It's about Trish's plan to get your soul back. She told me about a way we could summon a Collector of our own and have it collect your soul from whoever has it and we could offer up other souls to pay for an exchange."

"You said that the plan wasn't completely put together," Lady interrupted, making Nero break off with a faint growl and turn to glare at her. She just stared pointedly back at him, lifting her chin defiantly at his threatening look. She clearly knew the truth already and wasn't in the mood to forgive him.

"I lied." Nero admitted, the words sticking in his throat as the guilt threatened to strangle him. "Trish had her plan completely put together and told me everything, but I had reservations about what we had to do to get Dante's soul back. She asked me to make a decision and I just...couldn't." He turned back to Dante, "And I couldn't tell you either because I felt guilty for preferring you miserable over a chance to get back to normal. So...now you know. I'm sorry." The apology was even harder to get out than owning up to lying.

The whole room was quiet; thankfully Lady and Trish didn't have any more comments to add. Even if they did, Nero was wholly focused on Dante's reaction. The older man seemed to be lost in his own thoughts over what was just said, eyes half-lidded and aimed more towards the floor than anywhere near his face.

Several emotions ran across his face before, finally, Dante nodded slightly. "Alright, whatever."

Nero almost choked. "Excuse me?"

The blinded hunter shrugged. "Apology accepted."

He hadn't thought it would be so...easy. Instantly a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders and his lungs finally unwound, allowing him to take a full breath. It was an immense relief and he felt kind of stupid for letting the whole situation affect him so strongly. Nero really didn't know what to say to that.

Then he was taken further aback when Dante reached out to him and once his hands made contact, pulled the younger man into a hug. Nero instantly felt his face grow warm at the display of affection in front of Trish and Lady, who both were looking at them with raised brows and barely concealed smirks.

Nero started to pull away when he felt a sharp pain shoot through his side and couldn't stop the yelp that escaped. He pushed at Dante and backpedaled, rubbing at the now throbbing spot in his side.

"You pinched me? What was that for? I thought you accepted my apology."

"I did." Dante replied, not even attempting to hide his own smirk. "But that was for being a little punk about the whole thing and not telling me in the first place."

Nero glared as he rubbed at his side, but the look had less effect when Dante couldn't even see it. "Asshole."

"Alright, boys," Lady interrupted again, "Now that we got Nero's feelings out of the way, what's next? Trish's plan is a go, so what's the first step?"

"For the record," Nero mumbled, "I still don't like this plan. How exactly are we even going about it? Just start attacking humans like the Collector?" He received three blank looks at his inquiry before Lady rolled her eyes and Dante started to laugh. Even Trish cracked a smile when Nero looked her way. "What?"

"You're an idiot, that's what." Lady replied, "Who said anything about taking human souls?"

"But…Trish said—''

"I never specified that we would be trading _human_ souls with the Collector." The blonde demon said primly. "That was your own assumption."

Now Nero was just confused. "Then, what souls are we getting? How is this even going to work?"

"We're going to harvest some devil souls, obviously." Trish said so matter-of-factly, Nero felt like punching her. Dante and Lady both didn't seem surprised either, as if they knew that all along. "I told you before," Trish continued, "Souls are a seat of power; an energy source. In that respect, human souls would be inferior to our purpose."

"Remember," Dante added, still grinning at Nero's apparent idiocy. "It's a heart that demon's lack. Heart is what sets humanity apart by allowing them to love and hurt."

Nero just scowled at him. "Alright, you can all stop making fun of me." He grumbled. He probably would've figured all of that out on his own had he not been caught up dealing with his own whirlwind emotions the last couple weeks.

"As much fun as it is, it's time that we moved on." Trish agreed as she came forward. "We don't have much time to perform the ritual to summon a Collector. For that matter, there is a slim chance that whoever summoned the first one and had it take Dante's soul hasn't yet managed to make a complete exchange. If we hurry with our plan and gather our payment, we might be able to get Dante back to normal before any real damage can be done with that power falling in the wrong hands."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Dante asked, rubbing his hands together almost excitedly. Nero could hardly blame him. This was the solution they had all be waiting for. "Let's summon some demons, folks."


End file.
